Twinkle Twinkle Little Star
by AlienaCooper
Summary: Months have passed and Dylan Sedgewell and Cain Hargreaves are reunited… cue chaos. takes place between books 6 and 7 and has some hints of what happens in books 7 and 8. sequal to Baa Baa Black Sheep. proper summery inside please read and review
1. Prologue

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

A/N: WARNING SPOILER'S FOR UP TO BOOK 6- do not read if you have not read beyond book 6!! you have been warned- don't complain if you have not read beyond book 6 yet

DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NO READ BOOK 6

And possibly sum hints at books 7 and 8

On a less… forrboding note, this is also the sequal to 'Baa Baa Black Sheep', if you haven't read that, the chances are, you will have no idea what's going on here so I would advise you read that first.

I also remember having quite a few complaints that BBBS sounded so final ;P kinda the point folks… but Dylan is back! LET CHAOS ENSUE

I nearly forgot:

The PROPER Summery: A few months after the happenings when Dylan and our favourite Victorian earl meet for the first time, when things in the Hargreaves household are getting for tense after a certain 'Judus', our Black Sheep are reunited once again. And though they meet once again and their friendship appears true, it is clear there is much more at work behind Dylan than she is letting on… only now it is becoming more and more apparent. Why is Lord Sedgewell so against the idea of Dylan marrying, yet seems to hate her within the house? Why does one older brother hate her, and the other love her? Was there a situation between Lily and Alexis? Were the Sedgewell's really involved with Delilah at all? And why the hell should that matter at all? Once again, Cain's curiosity and unwanted feelings push him into discovering more than anyone thought possible… however the last question is… was it all worth it?

Prologue

The wind was cruel, cold and biting. It blew through him, eating away at his skin. Drawing the black cloak closer about his shoulders, Cain glanced about the almost deserted London street in semi curiosity. He had to keep reminding himself why he was there. To visit Susette, his cousin, his sister… his love? One of them anyway.

Looking up at the steel, black, wrought iron gates, Cain wandered again why people insisted on making cemeteries look so foreboding. There was no way the dead could come back unaided, therefore the sleeping bodies beneath the ground were safer than any place in London, no matter how someone looked at it.

"Still," murmured Cain to himself, "it would be so much easier if people did not insist on putting gargoyles in the most unsightly places."

He glanced up at the open mouthed beast place on top of the pillar looking outwards and shuddered, wandering at the architect's motivation or vision.

Again he found himself wishing he was not alone. He refused to take Mary for fear of her getting kidnapped or used against him in some way, Oscar would just become annoying, Crehador would continue being incredibly cynical and he could not think of someone else who would be able to understand his pain when visiting his beloved half sister.

No… that was a lie… there was one, but he abandoned him, turned out to be a traitor, a servant of Delilah and therefore his father. That familiar face flashed before his eyes yet again, and yet again his blood pounded in his ears and boiled in his veins. He was still reeling in shock over the revelation.

He shook his head. No, he could not think about it. He had time to deal with that traitor. But not today. Today was to visit Susette.

Walking throughout the gates, Cain was surprised at the calm of the place. The wind seemed to drop here, noise hardly carried, he no longer felt cold. It was strange.

Shaking himself, he forced himself to walk forewords, into the labyrinth of head stones, searching for one in particular.

Though it had been a long time since he had been to visit, he remembered the way perfectly. He crouched beside the grave and laid lilies upon the earth of her grave. His hand touched the earth for a moment, wandering if his father had concocted more semi human creatures; ones back from the dead and the like. It made his skin crawl.

'Suddenly, Susette,' he thought, 'I'm glad you died when you did… you did not have to see all of this.'

Standing, he touched the grave stone lightly as he stood, still gazing at the earth. Wandering if life would have been different if Susette were still alive… if he had never become so curious about the world… if he had not gone to visit Augusta that day… would it all have been different?

He turned away from the grave decisively. There was only so long he could stay in place like that. He had to leave, but he promised himself he would come and visit her again. Reminding himself that he must visit Emmiline too.

As he walked back towards the wrought iron gates he caught sight of a figure he could have sworn he recognised. He stopped abruptly and turned again to see a woman, possibly mid to late teens, standing before a grave staring down. She was dressed in a simple black dress, puffed out a little at the back as was the fashion. She wore a small hat on her head, similar to that of a man's top hat.

"Excuse me miss," he said slowly, walking over to her.

She seemed to start and look up at him in surprise. Her black hair was pushed out of face into the hat on her head, her eyes were a sort of dull green blue, her mouth set into a stubborn line. She looked familiar.

"Do I… know you?" he asked slowly.

For a long moment he felt those eyes study his face, yet he felt as though they were probing his soul. It was a strange sensation. Furthermore, he still could not place where he had seen her before!

"Yes," she said, quite simply, "you know me. Quite well I should say."

As she said this, her posture changed entirely, she had put all her weight on one leg, a hand goes to her hip, a smirk appeared on her face, her eyes brightened, shifting between impossible blue and sea green. "At the risk of being cliché… It's been a while my earl of poisons."

Cain looked stunned for a moment. "Dylan?! Dylan Sedgewell?!"

Her laugh echoed around the cemetery, startling near by pigeons. In that still, dead, cold place it was surprising such happiness even carried there.

The sound was almost refreshing to Cain's ears. It had been a while since he had heard such a carefree, honest gesture.

She grinned at him, as cocky as ever.

"I's good ter see ya, wolfie," she stated easily.

It was suddenly as though no time had passed since they had seen each other. Cain felt somehow secure in her company… with a person outside his own family, especially since Riff.

"You have no idea," he replied.


	2. Changes and Updates: AN edited a little

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

A/N: oooooo :-( I've had no reviews of my prologue no fair people!! Please tell me what you think soon I like to know what my readers think of what I write… though at the moment TTLS feels a bit slow to me… --'' what do you think?!

1. Changes and Updates

Having invited Dylan to lunch, Cain waited just outside the gates for her. She told him she had not finished yet. Not having the courage to ask what, he wandered who she had to visit within the grave yard, then remembering the death of her godchild when he was staying with her.

He sighed heavily, tipping his hat further down his head, covering his face in shadow.

Since seeing her last, Dylan had changed. Though he doubted for the better.

She looked older, older the her actual age. She was dressed in simple clothes, not the sort of thing she used to wear that would make her stand out in a crowd. He remembered her one day coming down in a black dress because she could find nothing else to wear (the rest of her clothes were in the laundry), and she still managed to render him speechless. Yet in that black dress, she could have slipped into a crowd and no one would have noticed another in their number.

Her cocky flair had gone. Until she appeared to recognise him she did not seem to have the same 'like it or lump it' aura. As though she was trying to make herself unnoticed. It was not like the Dylan he had met but a few months previously.

Wandering what may have caused her change, he remembered he had heard since turning seventeen there had been several marriage proposals put foreword. To his surprise it was not Dylan herself turning such offers down, but her father.

Though he considered it could have been a Delilah interference considering Alfred Sedgewell's links, he could not help but think Dylan was probably faced with far more scrutiny than she had done previously.

He himself had to put up with speculations about himself and Dylan for weeks after she had left. More than one man asking if he'd wed her or if he'd just bedded her. One night he his anger for the girl took control as he ended up punching a rather drunken man in the face for basically calling Dylan a whore. Cain knew she was no angel… but she was not a woman who would sink so low as to sell herself.

Though that night with her, that single night with her before she had left the next morning, he knew all too well that she was by no means a pure, virgin girl that aristocracy expected of their women.

"What the hell are you smirking for," a familiar voice interrupted his musings.

He looked up to see Dylan looking up at him with her large, ever changing eyes sparkling and as bright as ever. She had removed her hat, and her dark locks were swirling about her in the breeze. She suddenly looked far more care free, and the way he remembered her.

"Just remembering," he shrugged.

"Well don't go all nostalgic on me, I'll get bored, and you know how impossible I am when I'm bored," she said, quite seriously.

He stared at her. "You haven't changed…"

It was her turn to look surprised. She looked away from him, the spark having disappeared. "Yes I am… and I know it… it's why you didn't recognise me before."

"Dylan," she looked up at him sharply, "where are we?"

"On the street… in London… England… earth…"

"Don't get smart arse. Where?"

"Outside a cemetery."

"And where were we when I came up to you?"

"By a grave?"

"I don't think when you're by a grave you're going to be jumping for joy or something," he stated dryly, offering his arm to her so they could walk, surprisingly she accepted without complaint, she even appeared comfortable there, "and I have yet to see you look so lost and sad… hence why I could not recognise you at first."

"Bull."

"I'm sorry?"

She looked up at him, beaming. "You talk absolute bullshit you know?"

Again he himself was surprised he had not recognised her at first.

"C'mon," she rushed him, going past several very surprised looking artisocrates and well to-do people, and a few knowing looking working class, "I know the best café in London in Leister square."

'Why am I not surprised?' he thought to himself, hiding a laugh as he allowed himself to be manhandled by the slight woman.

It was then when he noticed the hand the gripped his arm. Though still strong as ever, possibly stronger, it was thin, the scarring worsened. The wrist too was thinner than it had been. Her whole being appeared to have lost an incredible amount of weight.

As she looked back at him and grinned, he realised how her sharp face had come to almost the point of gaunt.

What had happened to her? What were her family up to? Had he been right about her being in trouble?

He shook his head physically, as though trying to rid himself of such notions.

Not now… he would ponder them later. Now, he was going to enjoy the company of this charming, kind, loving, albeit insane, girl. He could find out the more gory details later. He had time.

Unsurprisingly, within the shop were mostly working class people, women trying to look after their children, a few couples shyly getting to know each other, wives and husbands discussing life in general. It was peaceful.

As Dylan stepped in, much of the noise quietened down, just a little as they looked towards her. As Cain stepped in behind her he noticed they all head their heads bowed just a little towards her before returning to their tea and cakes.

It was probably something these people could only do once every so often Cain realised. He had not really thought about that before, he had taken such places for granted till he come here.

Dylan lead him to a seat by the window, sitting herself down she looked up at him expectantly again.

"I set this place up," she explained, as he sat opposite her, "it's not fancy, but it's a nice safe place for people like us. It's much cheaper than the usual tea parlours."

"I can imagine," Cain said, appreciatively looking around, "but I sincerely doubt simply because it's cheaper it's quality has been depleted."

Dylan laughed again. "You have a way with words, my poisonous earl."

"Is that a new one," Cain found himself grinning at her.

"I don't think so," her face a picture of thoughtfulness, though he knew all to well she was mocking the look, then she shrugged, "maybe!"

As her laugh filled the room again, Cain gazed at her face. She was definitely thinner, her face was too sharp, her eyes were surrounded a little by the darkness of lack of sleep. But her skin was still clear, her complexion still nigh on flawlessly fair. Her eyes had not lost that glint of rebellion that he had previously been worried she had lost.

Reaching across the table, he took her hand in his own. The touch made her look at him directly.

"What?" she asked.

"Don't change," he stated, "you say you've changed a lot… you haven't. Just… don't change… ever." The smallest of smiles appeared on his lips.

Dylan appeared to be startled before, she laid her other hand on top of his. "You're strange," she told him seriously, "and I don't think I'm ever going to understand you."

He chuckled a little, "my dearest tart in fancy dress… as much as you do not understand me… I understand less of you."

"You and so many others," she joked, "hey- you want tea or something? They make the best coffee! I should know, I taught them. Though admittedly that ended up with a lot of burns…"

"You were only four'een," said a strong female voice, "i's no' exac'ly surprisin', hun."

Cain looked up to see a sturdily built woman, she was not fat, but incredibly muscular. She was smiling at the two of the kindly enough, but Cain could not help but think she would not think twice about knocking him out if he did anything against Dylan.

"Carlie, this is Cain Hargreaves, otherwise known as the earl of poisons," Dylan said smoothly, Cain stood abruptly to greet the woman, "Cain, this is Carlie, a good friend of mine for… ages. She also helped baby sit Mary a few times when her mother was alive."

Cain bowed at the waist, taking off his hat. "It is a pleasure to meet you," he said.

Giggling Dylan said to a surprised looking Carlie, "don't mind him, Carlie, he's trying to be polite, it's the only way he knows how."

"Oh… well… thank you milord," Carlie beamed at him.

"Oh no, thank you," Cain said standing up beaming at her, "Mary-Weather is my little sister, and it is an honour to meet someone who helped make her the lovely little girl I have today."

"He means thank you for looking after her," Dylan translated, "seriously Cain, save the posh talk for the posh snobs."

Carlie clapped Cain on the shoulder, "oh don' you star' bossin 'im abow', 'e's probably no' used ter i'."

"With Mary in the house…" Cain mumbled.

"How is Mary," asked Carlie suddenly.

"Talkative, opinionated, scaring her teachers… generally being to clever for her own good," stated Cain easily, finding it oddly eerie having to look _up _at a woman.

"Tha' sounds like the li'l Mary I knew. I's good ter know she's in a safe place now… you take good care o' her now."

Cain nodded, not trusting himself to speaking, remembering the little boy whom he had promised to protect Mary with his life to. Eric… briefly he wandered what would have happened if he had been able to save the child's life.

"Now, what do you kiddies want."

"Hey! I'm seventeen now, Carlie," protested Dylan almost irritably, "I'm no kid."

"And don' I know it," Carlie teased, reaching over to ruffle her hair, making Dylan cross her arms and pout almost angrily.

Cain took his seat again as Dylan reeled off a small list of cake slices she wanted for the two of them, Carlie recommending a few ever so often. He still could not help but think of how pretty this woman was.

He could no longer think of her as being a girl, she was a woman now. Had been for a while. Unfortunately, the rest of society had begun to see that too.

"Tea or coffee?" asked Dylan suddenly, knocking him out of his revere.

"Oh…" he was momentarily taken a back. He almost said tea, but he knew all too well it would not be the same… not the same as his.

Almost reading his look, Dylan turned to Carlie, "coffee for him, tea for me, please."

"All right, luvie," Carlie left, ruffling Dylan's hair again fondly.

Dylan tilted her head to the side almost examining his face again.

"What?" asked Cain, knowing all too well what her head tilting meant.

"Why were you in the cemetery? I know your… aunt isn't buried there, or your mother…"

"My cousin Susette, the daughter of my aunt Augusta," Cain admitted.

Dylan's eyes widened, her eyes suddenly becoming an a softer almost pastel type blue. He'd never seen that colour in her eyes before.

"I…" he trailed off, "we were close… she didn't die all that long ago." Dylan sighed and touched his hand softly, "what about you?"

"My mother," she shrugged, "I can't even remember her. But I still like to visit her. Makes me feel closer to her. Everyone says I pretty much have her face. So… yeah… just needed to visit her." She paused. "And, my father doesn't like me going there as well, so it's another reason why I like to visit her."

That made Cain laugh. "You love to do things to spite people don't you."

"Yeah… I won't do the whole 'shame on the family' thing, but I'll stand up for myself and do my own thing… occasionally."

She winked at him cheekily, as Carlie returned with steaming mugs of a tea and a coffee, setting them before them. A moment later, a young girl, of about fifteen, arrived with four plates of cake slices, a carrot cake, banana cake, chocolate cheese cake and a banoffee pie.

"They look delicious," beamed Cain, at Carlie.

"Don' tell me tha', I jus' own the place, Elsie here," she put a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder, "is the mistress of cakes in the place, pure genius."

"Miss Elsie, you are incredible," he said honestly.

"Thank you, sir," she blushed and bobbed a little, before hurrying off.

"Lovely girl," Carlie explained, "but shy as anything."

She left Cain and Dylan to talk, as another customer arrived.

"So how's Mary? I miss her! I haven't seen her since I left your estates."

"She's all right, she and Oscar have been getting on all right…"

Dylan chuckled. "You be careful, Cain, she'll marry that black sheep if your not careful." She appeared thoughtful for a moment. "Though… I really don't see that as being a bad thing some how." Before he could protest Dylan continued, "besides, she'll need someone she can boss around, Oscar will bend to her every wish!"

"She'll get bored," grumbled Cain.

"I wouldn't be so sure. And how's Riff?" the word suddenly pierced Cain through the heart, "is he keeping well? I know he has-"

"He betrayed me," he said quietly.

Now it was Dylan's turn to appear to be startled. "He… what?"

Before he could stop himself, Cain told her everything; of the human sacrifices of the mayor Gloria, the death of Sheila, the prostitute that Crehador had fallen for, his suspicion of Oscar, his attempt of the exposition of the mayor, and finally… the betrayal of Riff…

All that time Dylan stayed quiet. Gazing at his face, though he never once looked at her especially when he told her of Riff. When he finished she muttered something to himself, he could hardly make it out, but it sounded suspiciously like "that's why my little friends didn't like him…"

Then, she looked up suddenly and stood, coming round the table, and gently put her arms around him, drawing him close. Cain was so shocked he could hardly move. The gesture ended as suddenly as it began, and she looked at him, a hand on his cheek, the other pushing his hair away from his face.

"Don't loose hope," she told him, "don't loose your heart."

He frowned at her in surprise as she took her seat, and took a bite out of the chocolate cake, sipping at her tea.

"You can't," she said softly, "if you do… you'll loose your humanity. I- think about Mary… you can't only have revenge."

"What about you?" he half snarled, "and that boy."

She smiled sadly, looking out the window. "I didn't plan it. After I escaped your father, I went to where he stayed… armed with the gun I stole from Alexis… he happened to be there, so I killed him. I didn't plan it. I know you… you have your revenge set out… every movement pre-set out." She shuddered, "it's almost scary…" She stared back into his face, her eyes now a deep green, "but please don't loose your heart."

Before he could say anything in reply, she had stood suddenly.

"Oh shit," she swore, "I have to go home."

Standing abruptly too, Cain was stunned. "What?!"

"I have to go home," she repeated, "father's angry as it is that I've left to see my mother… I don't want to tempt fate as it is."

"But-"

"Seriously, Cain," her eyes begging him not to complain, "I can't. Maybe I'll see you again. And tell Mary I say hey."

Cain felt an odd mixture between anger and anguish about her leaving so suddenly. Shaking himself back into rational thought, he chased her out of the shop calling to Carlie he would be back in a moment.

He caught up with her, grabbing her wrist.

"You have to come to the estates," he stated, "soon. You have to come and stay for a bit. It's become a graveyard since Riff has left. I- we could do with the company."

He could see her visibly hesitating with her reply.

"Mary misses you, there isn't a day that goes by that she doesn't mention you."

What he did not mention was that there wasn't a day gone by when he had not thought of this strange creature at least once.

"All right!" she agreed, "I'll come."

"Is that a promise?"

She laid a hand over her heart. "Of coarse." Her soft smile had returned. "I'll be there in a fortnight. It's Chris' birthday, I have to stay for that."

"Fair enough," Cain nodded, "I understand perfectly." He smirked. "But in that case you have to stay with us for at least a week- two weeks… as punishment for having not come to see Mary for so long."

Letting out a half hearted laugh, Dylan nodded. "Fine… you drive a hard bargain, master wolf, but if it's for Mary… then I'll do it. But now I really have to go… I don't need any more trouble at home."

Somehow the statement hurt Cain somehow. Only for Mary? Nothing for him? Did she think nothing of himself? That was somewhat surprising…

He let go of her wrist, drew back and bowed at the waist again, taking her small calloused hand. "Till then, my lady tart," he said, mock sincerely, pressing her knuckles to his lips, before standing straight with a flourish.

Dylan looked momentarily surprised then laughed, whole heartedly. "Master wolf, you never change," she announced, before wrapping her arms round his neck, and pressing her soft lips to his cheek, then practically skipping away from him, not even turning back.

There she was… the enigmatic Dylan he had known those so few months before. She had not truly changed all that much. She was just suppressing it more, again for the sake of her family.

Strolling back into the shop, Cain sat before the almost finished cakes. He had been right… they were delicious. Knowing he could not finish them all, he asked at the counter fore a box in which to take them home. Then, after a moment's pause, he asked for a few more slices to take away.

"It has been a while since I have tasted something of this calibre," he explained to Carlie, who prepared the boxes for him, "they are… indescribable."

"Elsie will be please," smiled Carlie, "people now take her gift for granting."

Taking the boxes under his arm, Cain paid Carlie, and walked out before she could give him the change. Such a place needed the money more than he.

Staring after the strange earl, Carlie put the money in the register.

"Strange man," commented Elsie, coming to her adoptive mother's side.

"Very strange man… bu' Dylan seems ter like him, tha's good enough fer me," Carlie stated, "and he's lookin' afta Mary and has no' bin driven mad yet. He's no' yer usual aristocra'e, Elsie, other wise I don' think eitha of those girls would have pu' up wi' him… especially no' Mary."


	3. Home Life

A/N: just a little note to p.s.Pancake :-) hehe thanks it's 1 of the better side effects of usually spelling things purely phonetically :P but it's not that important. only useful if you want to show off ;-)

hope u enjoy this chapter!!

2. Home Life

Getting home, the newly hired butler accepted Cain's cloak and hat without argument and melted away again. For the moment that he was visible, Cain eyed him with momentary suspicion. He found it hard to trust almost anyone just then. He had Mary, Oscar and (to a certain extent) Crehador. Not forgetting his uncle Neil who had almost lost his life trying looking after Cain, by a woman under Alexis' orders.

There was the sound of shoes on stone, and the next thing Cain was aware of the weight of a small child in his arms, and a crushing hug around his neck.

"Mary!" he gasped, holding her close, "you're choking me!"

The little blonde girl released him, looking up at him with those bright blue eyes. Her bottom lip trembled a little as her eyes were welled with unshed tears. Though her hug was released, her hands gripped hold of his suit mercilessly. It was as though she were afraid he would disappear.

"What's the matter?" he asked, "has something happened?"

"You didn't tell me where you were going," Mary muttered, almost ashamed of herself for being so childish, though a child she most certainly was, "I was worried."

Cain kissed her for head gently. "If I was going anywhere dangerous, you would know. I would never forget to say good bye to you Mary." He smiled a little. "I went to go visit cousin Susette."

"Oh…"

"I know you never met her, but I'm certain the two of you would have gotten on. She was such a passionate woman, as are you, Mary."

"I know," Mary smiled, "you've said."

"I have?" he was taken a back. It seemed that though she had died so many years before, the feelings Cain possessed for Susette still lingered. As did the feeling for Merediana. Even Emeline…

Why did it seem that anything he held dear slipped away from him… and all seemed to be because of his father. Somehow, Cain even managed to blame Susette's death on him, yet he knew it was irrational. At the same time, the desecration of Susette's body was Alexis' fault, that he could, with a clear conscious, blame Alexis.

As brother and sister walked into the living room Cain remembered the meeting with a new woman in his life.

"By the way, I met an old friend of yours today."

"Who?" Mary suddenly brightened.

"Lady Dylan."

Mary squealed happily. "That's fantastic! How is she? Is she ok? Did she look well?"

"She's all right. Though something appears to be bothering her," he paused then added, "but then again, having many suitors propose to her so suddenly would take a toll on anyone. Poor girl."

"She won't marry any of them," Mary declared happily, "I know her. I don't think she'll ever marry."

Cain sighed and sat with Mary on a comfy chair. "If she never marries then she'll never escape her family," he pointed out.

Mary smirked, it was eerily close to Dylan's smirk. "You know Dylan, brother, she's resourceful… and she has contacts. If she ever decided to run away she would not be alone."

"Don't forget, Mary, she has four younger siblings… and you've seen with your own eyes how dedicated she becomes when she decides to take someone under her wing… it'll be a long time before she is free of her family then."

Mary sighed. She hated it when her brother was right. Suddenly she brightened. "Why don't you marry her, brother?"

Cain broke out into spluttering and stammering. "E- e- excuse me?!" he finally managed to spit out.

"You could marry her… that way you two would both be free of society's scrutiny."

Sighing, Cain kissed her cheek gently. How little Mary knew… if two such black sheep were to marry, the talk would be impossible. Further more, her family were too linked to Alexis for it to be even considered. Though Dylan would be grateful… even Cain would have been… such a strong woman by his-

He stopped himself. Was he really considering this?! What a ridiculous notion! They may have slept together, but she had let on any change of feelings towards him, and he felt none towards her. Not really… probably not… maybe…

"I've offered her a temporary escape anyway," Cain interrupted his own thought, not liking the direction they were taking.

"We're going to kidnap her?!"

"Almost," chuckled Cain, "I've invited her to stay a while with us. She'll be here in a fortnight, to stay for at least two weeks."

Mary squealed again, throwing her arms around her brother's neck happily.

The butler knocked on the door.

"Milord," he said tentatively through the door, "Baron Gabriel and Lord Crehador are here to see you."

'That noisy baffoon is no baron,' thought Cain, flippantly. Aloud he said, "show them in." Leaning back in his chair, Mary leaning against his chest, her hands neatly in her lap, her eyes half closed.

Thinking back on the Earl, Dylan was surprised to discover she did not think him changed at all. Through everything he had been through, not only what she had told that day but in general, he had still not changed. The boy… no man, was eternal it seemed. Never changing.

Yet the air about him definitely had changed. It was charged, dangerous, explosive. As though danger were drawn him personally.

She had heard from both Alexis and Jezebel in the past that the Hargreaves were a cursed family. None more so than Cain… the product of two Hargreaves' love.

Not love… greed on Alexis' behalf… utter greed and malice. There was no way he would have done such a thing to his sister if he loved her. He should have insisted the child be adopted instead of forcing the poor woman to face her nephew/son everyday until she was sent to the asylum.

Sighing, Dylan pushed open the heavy door to the London house. It was admittedly on the out skirts of the town, therefore very big, but it was London nonetheless.

As the heavy door thudded back into place, Dylan leaned against it tiredly, pulling her hat from her head, allowing her hair to fall about her face. She was tired, but she had to attend to Chris and Jonathan. With Chris' birthday coming up, the boy was ecstatic. Nothing could calm him. As such, the mood had effected Jonathan and neither could be calmed by anyone. Anyone that is… but for Dylan.

"Welcome home, Dylan," came a sly, almost sleazy voice, interrupting Dylan's thoughts, "did you have a nice day?"

Looking up, Dylan hid a scowl and smiled politely. Her brother Sebastian Sedgewell, coming down the stairs towards her. One brother who literally could not stand the idea of her being apart of the family.

He was tall, solidly built, and walked with a certain amount of swagger in his step. His voice was deep and musical. His face of that of almost mythical beauty. His hair was a deep chocolate brown, while his eyes were a stunning blue. No one could deny his handsomeness… just as no one could deny the coldness of his heart, shown all to clearly through those icy blues of his irises.

"I did, thank you," she said quietly, moving from the door, as Sebastian reached the foot of the stairs and made his way towards her.

"And where, might I ask, were you?" his tone was cold and threatening.

Looking up at him sharply, Dylan narrowed her eyes at her half brother. "No you may not, it's hardly any of your business."

Sebastian looked ready to kill her. "Of coarse it's my business," he snapped, "I can hardly have you mucking up my chances of attracting a worthy bride. If I have you being rumoured to be seeing with unknown men it is my problem."

"Oh get a life, Seb," she snapped, "that would hardly effect you." She smirked at him. "I'm the adopted girl, the illegitimate child that no one particularly cares about… the black sheep."

"That's bullshit, and you know it, Dylan," Sebastian snarled, "you are the most talked about Sedgewell daughter… the amount of proposals day by day… you would not understand-"

"You think I want that," she interrupted, "I've been living in this house since I was three… I would have thought by now you may have picked up something about me… even if we're only half related."

"So you admit to meeting with a man then?"

Dylan stared at him. "Where did you get that from?"

"You complain you do not wish for proposals, every woman your age would want proposals…"

"You are deluded," she sighed, and made a move to walk away only to have Sebastian grab her arm hard, pulling her back.

"Where were you?" he hissed.

Relenting, Dylan sighed. "I went to visit my mother…"

"Why? She's dead."

"That's why I visit her… I miss her."

Sebastian pushed her away, propelling her against the door. Dylan stopped herself before she could smash into the solid wood. Yet it took all her self control not to turn and return the push with a few of her own.

She had the power to humiliate him. She had the power the over power him and make him beg for mercy. She had the power to kill him. All that she was very aware of. Yet… it could not be. She had to uphold the family name, at least in upper class eyes. She was a black sheep, but only in the way she was opinionated, took the side of the working class, and ignored men's advances. Otherwise there were no despicable rumours about herself.

"Lies," he was back to hissing at her again, his stance was entirely offensive, ready to strike her back if need be. He remembered all to well their childhood fights, and how often it was he who came out with the worse injuries. "You were meeting some man, who is he?!"

"Oh for… you know what, I'm going. I have to look after Chris and Jon. But of coarse you would have no idea about that," she took a step forewords and curtsied deeply, "my lord."

The next she knew she had her back pressed against the door, strong fingers wrapped around her neck, her feet only just touching the floor. SHe gasped for air for a moment, then felt the grip relax and her feet be replaced on the floor. She breathed deeply, but his hands were still round her neck.

"I could kill you for being so impertinent," he hissed at her, "the only reason you're in this family for one reason."

"I know," she replied, quietly, "and I don't care. Do you really think I would purposefully shame this house? I do value my life you know."

"I would still kill you."

She laughed. "You might try, Sebastian dearest… but you would never be able to." She smirked, looking him in the eyes fearlessly, not caring his hands were ready to choke her at any given moment. "You couldn't…"

Sebastian's cold blue eyes widened, how dare she. Letting go of her, he raised one hand to her, glaring down at her. Dylan stared up at him, passively. She knew he would hit her. He had never been afraid to, even when she would repeatedly stop him and harm him instead. He knew all too well what she was capable of, yet he never seemed to stop trying to assert authority over her.

"Sebastian!" a powerful voice echoed about the hall.

The large boy started, and leapt away from the small figure of Dylan.

"Father!"

"Leave that child alone, Sebastian," Alfred Sedgewell stated quite easily, his gaze boring down on his eldest son from half way up the stair way , "she has had a hard day, and now she must attend her brothers. I think it unwise to mark her if she is to see them. Too many questions will arise… Dylan is well known for being incredibly blunt with the truth."

Not saying a word, Sebastian stepped away from Dylan, who simply bent to retrieve her hat and looked to her father.

"Good evening, Dylan," Alfred said calmly.

"Father," she nodded in reply, before starting towards the stairs, past the heavy set man, and towards the children's play room.

As the door slammed, Alfred turned to Sebastian.

The two men were very alike. Both were similarly built, both stood at about six foot four, the hair that fell into Sebastian's face and pushed away from Alfred's was the same chocolate brown. Though Alfred's eyes were a deep reddish brown, Sebastian was unmistakably Alfred's son.

"Sebastian…" he started calmly, coming down the stairs slowly, "you know better than that. It's wrong to harm a woman, even worse to do so a woman of your own family, weather that be an aunt or a a cousin or a sister. It is a sin."

"She's not my sister," snapped Sebastian angrily.

"Then what is she to you?"

"The desecration of marriage in human form. The evidence that man cannot quench his animal urges. A blemish on the aristocratic canvas."

"She is still your sister," Alfred sounded almost tired.

"Half sister."

The older man sighed, and put his hands on his son's shoulders. "Dylan may be the product of my moment of weakness, Sebastian, but you are my true child… the eldest of my true children. I thought you of all of them would understand that though she is not fully related by blood, Dylan has taken it upon herself to look after you."

"Tsk," Sebastian looked away look disgusted, "she's two years my junior-"

"That is meaningless Sebastian!" Alfred's voice had become raised, he paused, calming himself down before continuing, "she has taken care of all six of my children as though they were her own. And yet you still insist on seeing her as the enemy. You are blind, Sebastian… far more blind than I… I never thought that possible."

The large man heaved a sigh and released Sebastian, returning to his study on the second floor.

"My only wish for you know is that you clear that mist from your eyes and see clearly," Alfred murmured, more to himself than anyone else. His thoughts with his children, all seven of them.

By the door, Sebastian shook his head. He never understood why his father was so protective over his daughter, yet never truly shown her any affection.

As he made a move towards the kitchens, in the hope to catch the eye of one of the maids below, he heard a rustle of skirts from a near by corridor. He paused and waited for his mother to reveal herself, the woman whom he'd inherited the piercing blues from.

"Yes mama?" he asked, as she came into view, in her beautiful plain green dress.

"He's right you know," Lily said quietly, gliding over to the tall boy, reaching up and touching his rough cheek gently, "Dylan is apart of this family now… and is she important to us. To us all. Remember that." She smiled mysterious at the lad, before returning back down that same corridor, leaving Sebastian with a scowl upon his handsome face.

That night, after dinner, when the younger children had gone to bed, and Lily and Alfred had retired else where. Dylan did not know where her elder brothers were, nor did she care. Bertie had complained of a head ache earlier that night, and she hoped he had taken her advice and gone to bed. Sebastian… well Sebastian was not her issue.

Somehow she wished she could believe that. As much as she tried to suppress it, she kept getting the feeling that she had to look after her siblings.

'Ingrained from looking after my people,' she thought mildly, sitting quietly on the back porch steps, staring out at the small garden.

"Hey Dyl," came another male voice to interrupt her thoughts that day.

As she turned she almost wandered if she should make any female close friends. Then remember Katie and knew all the closest female friends were at her true home.

"Hey Lee," she replied, grinning at her friend, one of the kitchen boys.

He was a tall boy, stockily built, with large hands and feet as well as strong legs and back. Though he was hardly the most muscular being around, he was certainly strong. His rounded face had a permanent lopsided grin there, his soft brown eyes appeared to constantly be filled with the spark of life. His floppy blonde brown hair kept falling into his face, as such he had a habit of running his hand through his hair to make sure it stayed back.

"You alrigh', girl?" he asked, worriedly coming to sit beside her as she leaned back on the palms of her hands. "You seem kinda distracted."

"I'm fine, luv," she smiled, sliding a look across at him, his face a picture of worry for her, but immediately brightened as she told her it was nothing, "jus' thinkin'."

"Wha' abow'?"

Lee had always been interested in what Dylan had to say. Despite his working class back ground, and his body built for hard labour, he had a keen mind and could easily grasp abstract concepts, especially in philosophy. It had been Lee who had given Dylan the copy of 'The Prince' By Machiavelli that day those months ago for her to read on the way to the Hargreaves' estates.

"Nuffin tha' in'erestin'," Dylan replied tiredly, returning her gaze back to the heavens, "I just miss mum… and I can' even remember 'er."

"Tha' don' ma'er," shrugged Lee, "I dunno my dad, 'e died in India, bu' I still miss 'im, and 'e died a month before I wuz born."

"Oh… I didn' know tha'."

"Yer didn'? Coulda sworn I told yer…" he trailed off momentarily, a thoughtful look covering his features, then brightened again, nothing could keep him down for long, "ah well, I did naah!"

Dylan laughed, sitting straighter, looking at her friend sideways, "yer such an optimis'!"

"I know," he shrugged, "i's be'er ter be. Be'er than bein' depress' all the time."

"I like yer philosophy," she nodded happily. Then her smile faded again, and she looked away, not sadly, just thoughtfully. "I met a friend there," she said suddenly.

"Who?"

"Did you ever know Mary Weather?"

Lee shook his head. "Hearda 'er though."

"Well she wuz slum born like me… bu' her brother found 'er one day and adopted 'er immediately. I' wuz 'im I met, Earl Cain Hargreaves…"

"Oh I 'eard of 'im too," beamed Lee, "'e's a good guy. Al the upper class seem ter think tha' there's summat funny abow' 'im, bu' 'e seems ter care a bi' abow' people like me."

"Glad yer like him," Dylan laughed, "'e invi'ed me ter stay wi' him fer a few weeks. I think I migh' take 'im up on it."

The change over Lee was sudden and unexpected. His cheerful face immediately became thunderous, and his entire body became tense, his balled up fists were shaking a little.

"Lee…" Dylan said slowly, "wha's the… ma'er?"

"Yer can' go Dyl," he said slowly, as if trying to control himself, "yer can'! 'e migh' be alrigh', bu' 'e's probably like all aristocracy! 'e on'y wants one thin'!"

That made her laugh. Literally. She could not help herself, as much as she tried to stop herself, her giggles came in splutters and gasps.

"I know tha'," she chuckled, calming down, "bu' Cain learnt ter respec' me perddy early on."

"I c'n imagine tha'…" mumbled Lee, looking mutinous, "bu' wha' if 'e makes advances towards yer-"

"I'm goin ter visi' Mary," Dylan interrupted, "the fact tha' I ge' on wi' Cain is a bonus. I mean, 'e knows wha' I am, abow' me lookin' after my people… 'e 'elps ow' too. Took 'im ter Carlie's terday."

"I be' Elsie's cakes won 'im over," smirked Lee, Lee and Elsie were cousins, and close cousins at that.

"You c'n say tha' again," grinned Dylan, "bu' tha's no' the poin'. Don' give 'im an 'ard time jus' coz yer know people like Seb… no' all nobles are like tha'. Cain's decen'…" she trailed off remembering her days there… arguing with Cain, teasing him… getting to know him… the last night with him… she never expected to see him again after that. "We go' close las' time I wen' ter visi'. 'e actually trea'ed me like a person, no' a woman 'oo migh' 'ave marriage prospec's in the future. A person 'oo finks… like you."

"Hummm…" he looked thoughtful, "well a's good… bu', I almos' think I should come wi' you this time. I don' wan' 'im thinkin-"

"Yer can' Lee," sighed Dylan, "yer needed 'ere. Father will never le' you off. An' besides… 'oo else is gonna make sure Mark doesn' worry the 'orses, or keep Sarah and Seb away from each other or… or jus' generally keep an eye on my family when I'm no' 'ere. You dunno 'ow much I rely on you 'ere when I'm no'!"

"I've go' some idea," the stocky guy shrugged, she still was not sure if he could be described as a man or a boy, "bu' you promise yer'll be alrigh'… righ'?"

"I promise," said Dylan sincerely, "I'll look after Mary, Mary'll protec' me from Cain and Cain will protec' me from everythin' else… or at leas' attempt ter… you gotta give 'im kudos fer tryin'."

Lee nodded solemnly. "Yeah… I reckon yer dad should pay the maid tha's gotta come out wi' you a bi' more when ever she dus coz 'ell yer must attract a lo' o' trouble!"

"Shuddup Lee…" she grumbled, crossing her arms.

Glancing around, Lee quickly wrapped his arms around his friend in a quick hug then let her go again, for fear of being seen by the household.

"When d'ya think you migh' go?"

"In two weeks… coz of Chris' birthday… bu' earlier if I ge' driven mad."

"All righ'… bu' yer be'er wri'e ter us, or else we'll worry like las' time."

Dylan got up and stretched, then paused and bent to kiss Lee's cheek before straightening again and looking up towards the house.

"I won' ferge', Lee, I promise."


	4. Guests

A/N: please please please please please review after you read :-( i feel weirdly neglected when i see hits but no reviews (i know i sound like a whining child... but its true!).

oh and i've decided something i have no idea why byt the song 'The WHite One is Evil' by Eliot Minor weirdly rememinds me of Baa Baa Black Sheep as well as Twinkle Twinkle :P i don't know if you agree or not, but i think it does :-)

one last thing before i let you go to read the next chapter... is there anyone who good at drawing? i was just wandering if you could draw me how you see Dylan if you get half a chance :-) thanks

presenting chapter three :-D enjoy folks

3. Guests

Those two weeks past at a painful slow pace.

Day by day, Dylan went about with her usual chores of looking after the children as well as getting on with her own work with the official governess.

Often she was found in the gardens or in the centre of town. Though her elder brothers and father did not particularly like it, only Sebastian ever spoke his views; constantly reminding her of her family and duty to them. In reply, Dylan would only say she did not wish to be caged within four walls and therefore would not.

In that time, Christopher turned nine, and had been incredibly happy with his small birthday party Lily and Dylan had organised together for him. Although at the time the child only thanked his mother, treating Dylan with the same contempt as his older brother, later that evening as she read to him and Gwen, he wound his arms around her waist and curled up in her lap, muttering his thanks. The poor child had always been so confused as to how to treat his oldest sister.

Cain too came to call at the house, more than once. The first was a day when Dylan was not home, therefore unaware of his presence there. That was until dinner arrived, and Cain left. The two caught sight of each other as Dylan walked down the stairs with little Jonathan on her hip and Christopher holding onto her hand.

The two looked momentarily startled, Dylan for Cain's presence and Cain for how Dylan looked in general. He never expected to see her look so motherly in his life.

"My lord," she said, coming down the stairs, nodding her head towards him, "what an unexpected honour. What brings you here?"

"Sister!" came the squeaky, nosey voice of Christopher, "big sister!" She looked at him, an eye brow raised.

"What did I tell you Chris?" she demanded.

The child looked ashamed of him self mumbling, "never interrupt a guest."

"Good boy- now what do you want?"

"Who is he?" he asked.

"Ah… I'd forgotten you haven't met. Chris, Jonny, this is Cain, a… a friend of mine," she stated, "Cain, these are my two littlest brothers."

"A pleasure to meet you," Cain said finally, suppressing a smirk, bending to Chris' level, shaking his hand, the standing straighter and holding his hand out to 'Jonny'. Jonathan had other ideas, he instead hide his face in the mass of black known as Dylan's hair.

Adjusting him on her hip, Dylan chuckled. "Don't mind him," she told Cain, "he doesn't like new people." She kissed her brother's cheek and set him on the floor, the little child looking up at her with the most enormous brown eyes. "You two head to the kitchen ok? I need to talk to earl Cain here. Can you two do that for me?"

"Of coarse!" grinned Chris, "I'm not a baby any more."

"Well Jonny is, you look after him."

"Jonny no baby…" the smallest complained quietly.

"Then don't be so shy," Dylan teased.

"Come on Jonny! Maybe we can make Charlotte give us chocolate cake," cheered Chris, grasping his little brother's hand, walking off with him fast.

"No chocolate till after dinner!" ordered Dylan as the two disappeared down the corridor. She sighed heavily, "if they eat chocolate before dinner there'll be no calming them down enough eat properly," she added in explanation tiredly. "So what are you doing here? And why the hell do you look so shocked?"

"I… uh… never thought I'd see you like that," explained Cain, rubbing his forehead.

"Like what?"

"All… motherly and… sort of normal."

Dylan's hands went to her hips, an eye brow was raised and the weight went to one leg. She was back again. The normal… _real_ Dylan. "You shuddup, kid," she stated, "I c'n still kick yerass."

Cain rubbed his chin a little. "I know… I remember… As for what I'm doing here. I'm asking for your hand in marriage."

Dylan laughed. "Really? What did father say? Go fuck yourself? Or sure have her!"

"The first one."

"Thought so…"

"All right all right. I came to ask him if it was all right for you to come and stay at the estates for a fortnight. Mary misses you a lot, she needs you. I told him I had already asked you, but you said to ask him."

"You saved my sorry butt adding that you know," Dylan told him sincerely, "he'd get all suspicious otherwise." She smiled softly. "Thanks."

"Any thing for my Queen of Beggers," he muttered bowing low, sweeping off his hat.

Dylan could not help but giggle at the outrageous gesture as she stifled her proper laughter.

"But I need to be off," Cain said as he straightened, "I'm seeing Oscar tonight, and Mary is already in his care… Crehador's with them, but I don't trust the insane one all too easily."

"Oh be nice… he's in love."

Cain raised an eye brow. "Really?"

She nodded. "I can tell. Now piss off and tell them I say hello. Crehador and I go back a long way."

"Now he must have some stories to tell…" he told her, though he did not appear to really be listening, his thoughts seemed to be more focused on the possibility of Oscar and Mary.

"Another time perhaps," he said suddenly, snapping out of his day dream, or perhaps 'daymare'.

He caught up her hand and pressed his lips to it gently. "Until next time, my lady time."

"Buh-bye master wolfie," she teased, taking her hand back and walking towards the kitchen where she knew her little brothers were causing havoc.

It was only when the large doors slammed did Dylan know he had left.

She always forgot how well she got on with Cain. But when ever she met him again, it was as though no time had passed. It was the same with Mary. The siblings did have quite a lot in common.

After then he came back a few times, though Dylan only twice had a chance to speak with him properly and only once without her parents or family listening.

She wandered what he was up to, it was clear he was suspicious of something. Though what was yet to show itself. However, she did not mind. His visits were a welcome break in an otherwise boring existence.

Somehow, since she had returned how, it was harder and harder to get out of the house. Her father, mother and oldest brother all seemed to be keeping an eye on her. Only Bert, Sebastian's younger twin, seemed not to mind if she left the premises.

On the day of her departure, Dylan's temper erupted. She and her father began another dispute. Unsurprisingly over her lack of freedom.

"For God sake father!" she snapped at him, bags packed, dress sorted, hair done, she was ready to go, yet here was her father almost threatening to stop the trip entirely.

"Why?!"

"I think it odd that the young man come here often, almost as if he wishes to see you… perhaps there is more to this visit than what is clear to me."

"You think…" she paused, and laughed cruelly, "you blind father! Hargreaves? And I?! That is a joke. I, who will almost inevitably cut a man's ego to shreds if he pushes me too far. That _boy _is fully capable of that, but has learned early not to upset me. Father- I have befriended his sister. He is a mere acquaintance. A friendly boy, I'll admit, charming and kind, to a certain extent, but otherwise… I do not know him." She smirked. "And as your wishes command… I shall know no man as such until my little sisters and older brothers have."

"Do not cheek me child," he snapped his large frame filling the door, "you are a child of this house and you will-"

"I NEVER ASKED TO BE!" she screamed, "you agreed to take me in- I had no choice in the matter. It's you who brought this upon yourself."

There was an all mighty slap as Alfred walked towards her and smacked the side of her face.

"You will be silent," he snarled.

Dylan held the side of her face. It was stinging, but hardly hurt. Her father was a big strong man, as were his sons, she understood his strength, but never really felt the pain that should have been inflicted.

She smirked. "Me? Silent? Ha! You jest, surely! You cannot silence me. No one can silence me. I talk! I talk and talk and talk and talk! Until I drive people mad!"

"You are driving me mad, Dylan!"

"Would hardly be the first time father."

"Don't make me hurt you again, daughter."

"Oh so you call me daughter now? A minute ago it was child. And hurt me again… you know me father… it takes a lot to hurt me."

"I know how, Dylan… don't make me…"

Her eyes narrowed at him. "You know what? I do not care. I am going. I shall leave. And I am not coming back! I refuse to come back to a house where I am treated as a criminal!"

"You have my leave!" snapped Alfred in reply, "stay with the cursed Hargreaves family- you are no daughter of mine."

He turned to leave, his entire body shaking.

"So finally you admit it," her tone sounded satisfied.

Though Alfred paused for a moment, he said nothing, only continuing to leave her room.

Scowling, Dylan flopped onto her bed, feeling ready to cry. As much as she resented being a lady, as much as she hated her father being so protective and as much as she hated it when he treated her so harshly… she could not help but love the harsh man so much.

She wandered for a moment if she really could leave them for good. Find else where to stay and never see them again. She wandered if she could truly bare it. Not seeing her little siblings… or her elder… even Sebastian… the servants… her friends…

There came a knock on the door.

She sat up, wiping her face, realising she had succeeded in holding back her tears.

"Dylan?" it was Lily, she swept in, sat beside her adoptive daughter and held her, "don't worry, child… Alfred he… he just worries about you. If anything happened to you… he would be devastated. He's just upset at the moment. He'll calm down soon."

"When I'm gone," Dylan replied, holding tightly to the older woman's sleeve.

"You can be so cruel to him."

"We are blood."

Lily laughed. "That is true… often those most alike argue so much."

Dylan scowled. "I hope your not insinuating father and I are very much alike."

"You are similar," chuckled Lily, "come come now, your carriage is here. We'll have the servants carry the bags down- and don't say you'll carry them down, you'll only antagonise your father and your brothers."

Sighing, Dylan nodded. Lily walked out of the room and called for Lee and Mark. Oddly enough, the two servant boys who were closest to Dylan.

"I shall wait down stairs," Lily told her as the boys came running up the stairs, "you grab your coat."

"Yes mama."

She walked out as Mark and Lee waited just outside, staring at the floor, then entered the room as Dylan called for them.

"Ma sez I gotta le' you guys carry my bags," Dylan explained, almost irritably, "do ya mind? Yer know I'd do i' myself-"

"We know," grinned Mark.

"C'mere," she smiled in reply, "I'll say g'bye naah so the family don' ge' annoyed. Father's pissed as i' is!"

Mark ran over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, he was thirteen, but he had yet to get a growth spurt, though had his father been anything to go by, Mark would not stay short for long.

Leaning down, Dylan kissed the crown of his head.

"Be a good lad, yeah? And look after the horses, don' worry 'em."

"I won'," the lad promised, "I promise! You 'ave fun! An' tell Mary Mark sez hey."

"Will do," Dylan nodded.

Lee came over and hugged her tightly as well, accepting her kiss on the cheek quite happily.

"You remember wha' I said naah, girl," he told her seriously, "'e migh' be alrigh' bu' yer c'n never tell wi' these noble types."

"Yeah yeah… Jus' make sure yer keep an eye on every one, especially Mark."

"Hey!" the child complained.

Dylan just laughed. "Take my bags, before father or Seb get annoyed."

As they left, Dylan turned to her wardrobe and picked out her plainest coat; almost floor length, black, and thick enough to keep the chill out, but thin enough not to be a hindrance. As she pulled on the coat, she closed her bedroom door behind her, knowing that no one would be in that room again until she returned home.

Down stairs, her family waited for her. The only ones missing were Bert and her father.

Albert (or Bert) had said good bye to her earlier. Her older brother was the younger twin, and unfortunately the most sickly child in the family. The slightest breeze could give him pneumonia. As such, it was unsurprising that he had refused to come out of bed that day due to a sore throat, mild temperature and aching head.

The surprise was that Sebastian was waiting for her. Though admittedly he was glaring.

As soon as she came to the foot of the stairs the youngest three Sedgewells became almost attached to her, Jonathan was immediately settled onto his usual place of her hip, Chris hanging off her hand and Gwenaviere complaining.

"When will you be back," moaned Gwen, unhappily, as Dylan untangled herself from the reaching arms to hug them one by one.

Dylan hesitated. "Soon," she said finally.

"Why are you going?" demanded Chris, "you need to help me with my maths homework."

She laughed. "I'll help you when I get home. Maybe this time you can do them without getting me to do all the working out."

Chris' cheeks flushed.

Jonathan had still to be displaced from her hip, refusing to let go of her.

"Jonny, baby, please, Dylan has to go now," she pleaded, "I'll see you soon. And I'll try to write."

Jonny looked at her suspiciously, but plastered a sloppy wet kiss on her cheek and slid down her leg to the floor and sat on the stairs watching her. Which is where the other two joined him when the received their own kisses and hugs.

"Champagne?" asked Dylan, using her old nick name for her younger sister, "do I get a hug before I leave."

"But I'll get my dress all creased," complained the haughty girl, it was hard to believe this blonde girl was only fourteen. Though admittedly somewhat plainer compared to her older siblings, she still could pass for sixteen. Charmaine was the ultimate young lady, poised, polite, conscious of her dress, everything Dylan was not. Which also meant she was somewhat haughty and self centred. But Dylan knew better… Charmaine may have been a bit of a pampered brat, but that pampered brat had a heart of gold.

"All right," smiled Dylan, "give me a kiss good-bye then."

Charmaine grinned, for a moment it was as childish as it should have been, then she seemed to catch herself, and turned it into a more languid smile. She took her sisters hands and kissed her cheeks, as Dylan did the same to her.

Dylan turned to her oldest brother.

"Seb… please keep an eye on father and Albert… I'm worried for Albert's health… father's too."

Sebastian nodded curtly, and dutifully kissed her cheek as his mother watched.

Though she did not show it, Dylan was surprised. He never kissed her good bye. For any reason. This was the first time in years he'd ever touched her in such an affectionate way.

Finally she turned to her stepmother, who escorted her adoptive daughter outside.

"Now be good, and follow the rules," Lily warned, "don't do anything silly, and please have fun."

Dylan smiled gently.

"I will," she promised, "I'll be back… I'll back in at least a fortnight. I'll write home from time to time."

Lily hugged Dylan again, holding her tightly to her, as the younger girl did the same, before letting got and climbing into the carriage.

As the horses set off, Dylan leaned out for just a moment to wave good bye her stepmother, then settled back into her seat, picking up her book, getting ready for a very long journey.

A while after leaving the Sedgewell house, the carriage and its passenger arrived safely at the Hargreaves estate.

Dylan felt a sense of freedom at finally being able to step out of the warm, dark carriage into a cool, fresh breeze. She looked up at the house. It was beautiful… the architecture… the designs… the nature having climbed up the walls. She did like the place.

"Should I carry them in miss?" asked the carriage driver.

Dylan started, and turned around. "Oh dear me, I'm so sorry, I should have helped," she apologised, worriedly, jumping down from the carriage entirely, rushing over to her bags, "do you mind helping?" she asked, "I honestly don't like the idea of you carrying them in all on your own." She beamed up at the young man, as she bent over to pick up two bags.

"No no miss," stammered the driver, blushing under the attention she was giving him, "I couldn't possibly-"

"Just grab those two, if you be so kind," she told him, taking the two heaviest ones, as though they were simply bags of flour.

Surprised it took the man a moment to realise what was happening, then grabbed up the bags and jogged to catch up with this strange lady.

In the hall the driver set the bags down next to Dylan as she sat on the ones she brought in, she was rummaging through her purse.

"Thank you… uh… sorry, what's your name?"

"Moore, Teddy Moore," the driver said, standing straighter.

"Teddy," she smiled and held out a hand, "hand please. Hold it out."

Trying to hide his confusion, Teddy Moore held out a hand towards her. She took it with one hand, and with the other pressed something into his palm.

"Don't look until you get outside," she beamed up at him almost childishly, closing his fingers, "you'll get angry with me otherwise."

He frowned, bemused. "How do you…"

"I know people like you, very proud and very caring," she looked around and let go of his hand, "you'd better get going before the head of the house gets nosey. He's a decent guy… but very weirdly protective over girls under his care."

Teddy Moore nodded, bowed and turned to leave.

"See ya," waved Dylan happily, watching the figure of the young man leave.

Outside the house, Teddy Moore, opened his hand to see quite a few gold coins glinting in the dulled rays of sunlight. Startled, he looked back up to the house and shook his head, pocketing the money and climbing back onto the carriage.

Strange woman… Dylan Sedgewell…

Though Teddy Moore had taken many nobles to and from destinations, he could only just remember their faces, let alone the titles and names attached. Yet this one, this one he was sure he would remember.

Inside, Dylan waited for Cain and Mary to be notified of her arrival. Which was immediate. A moment after Teddy Moore left, there came the sound of little feet on wood, and Mary came into view and almost immediately after, flung her arms about her neck.

"Hello to you too," laughed Dylan, settling the girl more comfortably on her lap.

"You're evil!" Mary complained looking up at her, "pure pure evil! How dare you avoid me for so long! It wasn't fair! It wasn't right! I missed you!"

Still laughing, Dylan ruffled her golden hair. "I've been a little preoccupied. Charmaine had her birthday, so did I and so did Chris. Kinda hectic. As well as… well… you know," she shrugged and rolled her eyes, "at least father's the one telling them to get a life and not me."

Mary nodded solemnly. "Big brother might get a little jealous if you go off with someone else," she added, grinning.

Dylan glanced up at the slowly approaching figure of Cain Hargreaves, who clearly had heard everything that was being said.

"Oh really?" Dylan smirked, "did he say something?"

"No… but he doesn't need to. He-"

"Can hear every word you are saying, Mary-Weather," Cain's voice echoed about the hall, "are you going to make Dylan sit on her cases all day? Or will we have someone take up the cases and she can come in for something to eat and somewhere more comfortable to sit."

"Brother's just too scared to let you know the truth," whispered Mary, conspiritually, before jumping on the floor, tugging on Dylan's hand.

Cain meanwhile had called for a couple of the servants and was telling them which room to take the bags up to.

Pretty soon he caught up with Mary and Dylan.

"It's good to have you back, Dylan," he said softly, catching up with her.

"It's good to be back," she replied, smiling at him, then chased after Mary, calling after her happily.

Cain watched the girls screech and giggle down the hall, sound filling the space. It was the first time in a long time that any such sound had been heard.

All the servants, maids, kitchens boys, the butler… everyone came to see what the racket was about. All could not help but smile to see such pure joy.

Dylan seemed to have that effect on people.


	5. Words That Hurt

4. Words That Hurt

The next few days passed quietly. The house seemed lighter, almost brighter then. Everyone of the household were smiling more and more. Singing could be heard as they worked. Dylan once again talking with servants and the house nobles with equal amount of respect and familiarity. Mary seemed to be more alive than ever. Even Cain was more alive.

It was not just because Dylan was there, the fact that she was did help tremendously. It was as though the presence of an outsider helped the house move on from the loss.

Though it was mostly Mary and Dylan spending time together, it was not unusual to see Cain and Dylan teasing each other with their old nick names, or just generally irritating each other. They never seemed to take their banter to heart, and always laughed about it afterwards.

It was because of this interaction between them that the maids began to gossip about the two of them. Wandering if Cain had finally met his match, that perhaps he would agree to marry… even put a marriage proposal foreword. But the friendliness between the two never seemed to exceed that… it was friendly.

Cain himself was thoroughly enjoying himself. He was finally able to see Mary utterly happy, and allow himself to relax. What was more… he was able to spend time with Dylan, without the interference of her family.

Yet something about her still bothered him. She had admitted to him about being able to communicate with animals, about Alexis wanting to take her on as apart of Delilah, about being the queen of commoners. And still… he felt as though he knew nothing.

After speaking to uncle Neil, he wandered if he really knew Dylan at all. She had yet to admit to her family ever being involved with the Hargreaves before. Then again… what if she never knew?

As the days past, and he spoke with her, ate with her, watched her play with Mary, he became less and less suspicious. Though still curious.

One night, five days after Dylan arrived, and admitted she may stay longer if she thought it right, there came a knock on Cain's door.

"Who is it?" he called, tiredly, having just settled into bed, a book in hand.

"Dylan," came a horse whisper, "I can't sleep and I'm bored… can I come in?"

"Uh… of coarse," he replied, laying his book down, wandering if he should dress.

The door opened, creaking slightly on unoiled hinges, then closed almost silently. Dylan stood leaning on the door, dressed in male pyjamas of a shirt and loose pants. They were blue and appeared to be made of silk. She grinned at him.

"Come sit here," sighed Cain, indicating towards the bed.

She walked over and sat cross legged opposite him.

"Don't tell me your naked again," she said, mock exasperatedly, "honestly, wolfie, you would have thought you _wanted _something to happen."

He shrugged. "Normally I'd have someone to help me," he said, almost wistfully.

Appearing to be taken a back, Dylan sat straighter, putting her head to one side again, examining his face. He always felt as though she were probing his soul when she looked upon him in that manner.

"You mean Riff?" she asked slowly.

There was a moment's pause, and Cain nodded… slowly. "Yes… he was the only one who could help me. The only one who I accepted help from. Only he… until you came to me… only he knew of my wounds inflicted on me from father. I feel sort of lost…"

Dylan leaned forewords, looking up into his eyes. "Make me a promise?"

"What…?" he was somewhat apprehensive.

"Don' loose 'eart," she stated, "don'… just don'. We need people like you in the world… people 'oo don' care 'bow' backgroun' or… breedin' or wha'eva… There ain' too many ov'em in the world any more."

Cain just looked at her. "You know… you scare me when you do that."

"Do wha'?"

"Change accents so suddenly."

She shrugged. "I's my real one. I can change back to this if you wish."

It was his turn to shrug. "It's up to you. I can't control you."

The smirk was back. That famous Dylan Sedgewell smirk was back. He had forgotten how much he had missed that look on her face.

"Oh you learn very quickly," she told him, leaning towards him, tapping him on the nose playfully. "And if you do get too lost… I could always help you."

"Help me with what?"

"Making tea, going places… getting dressed," she winked playfully, teasing him again, leaning towards him.

"Thanks… but I sleep in the nude- and I mastered that one first," Cain replied, rolling his eyes.

"Aww…" Dylan mock pouted, almost prowling towards him, "that's no fun." She poked him in his chest, "you know how bored I get." She settled herself beside him, against the pillows, looking at him sideways.

Cain wandered for a moment at her motives. Sitting beside him, looking up into his eyes so innocently, she looked almost angelic. As well as so comfortable beside him. He had never been in such a situation before; a young woman simply talking to him, playfully flirting with him. This was definitely not a normal situation, it was not normal for a man and woman to be on such familiar terms, but somehow… it felt right.

"What are you thinking about, my earl of poisons," Dylan interrupted his train of thought, nudging him in the ribs.

Shaking his head, Cain looked down at her, thoughtfully, "Just that… you're the only person who's seen my back and I've not felt incredibly uncomfortable with you afterwards."

Dylan allowed her eyes to slide sideways to view the scars, a finger reaching out to touch one gently. Cain shuddered under the touch, she snatched her hand away quickly.

"Sorry," she said brightly, "but you know… you're the first one to see… that," she touched her chest, near where the ugly scar slashed down her breast, "and not freak out." She smiled sadly, "males seem to think a woman with a scar has more… balls then they do. So they become intimidated."

"What about… that man…?" he blushed, remembering the man she had killed because he had betrayed her.

"Lucus Roberts?" she asked, and chuckled, "he was there when it happened… he almost killed the one who did it. He wasn't always a traitor. We were friends once… good friends. But a traitor I cannot and will not forgive."

"You're a harsh woman, Dylan," he said slowly, "remind me to stay on your good side."

"You weren't always on my good side, Hargreaves," she teased, poking her tongue out, "remember?"

"Oh yeah… well I hardly deserved such treatment."

The eyebrow became raised. "You're nosey, Cain… you deserved it. You should have waited until I told you before you went prying into my business."

"I didn't really find anything out till you told me," he grumbled, then remembered the conversation with uncle Neil.

How his father was so intimately connected with their parents, yet they had never met before now (unless his memory was very much mistaken). Her step-grandmother having a deeper reason to disliking the girl. The close links to Delilah… Did she even know?

Dylan yawned and stretched. "I'm so tired," she giggled, childishly, "I could go to sleep right here." She wriggled down on the pillows a little, looking up at Cain happily, her shifting blue green eyes were still changing, but the changes were far more subtle.

"Why don't you?" shrugged Cain, "you look bloody comfortable there."

"I am," she beamed, then leaned over and jokingly traced a finger down his chin, "though I could be more comfortable." She started laughing, throwing herself away from him and against the soft pillows.

Cain wandered for a moment if she was in fact serious… Or was he wishing she was?

On impulse, he leaned over towards her, and pressed his mouth to hers so suddenly, she gasped and hardly reacted. Then seemed to melt in his arms, her arms wrapped loosely about his waist.

Instinct took over from there: Cain found himself pulling Dylan beneath him and finding no reason why he should stop. His kisses trailed from her mouth to her and further down. Blood pounded in his ears, he could barely hear Dylan's complaints, he hardly understood why she was so tense.

Until her fist came into contact with the side of his face, and she pushed his stunned self off her body with a powerful kick, straight into a poster of his four poster bed.

Rubbing his head, gaining focus in his eyes, he could just make out a fuming Dylan straightening her pyjamas.

"Wha' tha bloody 'ell wuz 'at for?!' she demanded, her accent slipping.

"You weren't acting so angelic a moment ago!"

"Do yer no' understand the concep' of a joke?!"

"You weren't complaining to before," he muttered, irritably.

"A kiss and wanderin' 'ands are differen'," she snapped.

That was not quite what Cain had meant.

Her eyes narrowed further. She took a breath, controlled and almost inaudible, but clearly trying to calm herself down. "Is that all I am to you?"

"What?"

"This. Me. In bed. Is that all I'm worth to you?"

"Wha'- no! Of coarse not-"

"Then why immediately jump to that conclusion. I thought you were my friend… I was joking… I thought you were taking it as a joke as we-"

"Friends don't kiss each other like that."

"I was surprised."

"You kissed me back."

"Are you listening to me?!"

As Cain opened his mouth to say something else, Dylan slipped off the bed. "It doesn't matter… I'm probably just tired. I don't want to argue with you Cain-"

"Too late," he muttered, knowing all too well she could hear him.

"So I'm going to bed," she finished through gritted teeth.

As she walked towards the door, all of Cain's curiosity seemed to bubble up in side him, as though he could not wait any longer to discover the truth. The question was said before he even realised he was even thinking of such a thing.

"How well do your parents know my father?"

That made her stop. She turned to look at him in surprise.

"Excuse me?"

"Your parents, Alfred and Lily Sedgewell… how well do they know my father?"

Dylan shrugged. "Mama knew him… a while back… I don't know the details. Father went to school with him, they were very close friends all the way to adulthood and beyond. If Alexis hadn't been 'killed' then I'm pretty sure the two would still be friends now. Why?"

"I've been digging into my father's past. Hoping something would come up, give me a clue as to what in God's name the man is doing." He paused for effect.

However, such effect was wasted on Dylan, she pointedly looked at the clock in Cain room, crossed her arms and tapped her foot. It only lasted a moment, but such pure sarcasm reminded Cain of why he had been drawn to her in the first place.

"The Sedgewell name kept appearing. I became suspicious. Not of you, you had been verified."

"Hence why you repeatedly came to my house," her voice was bored, as though she had heard all of this before.

"I was suspicious," he defended himself, "I still am. You're stepmother seems to be in the clear… it appears there was some involvement between her and my father, but that was a long time ago now, that does not necessarily mean she was on his side."

"I remember the two being friends," shrugged Dylan, "but obviously father and he were closer… they were childhood friends." She shook her head. "You really are incorrigible, my _lord_. You need to learn flexibility…" her eyes narrowed. "perhaps if you had asked me you would have gotten better information."

Cain frowned. If he didn't know any better he could have sworn that he had heard her voice break a little.

"Dylan," he started slowly, "is there somethi-"

"Just stop prying where you have no business," she snapped at him, "you deal with Delilah, I'll deal with my family."

"But-"

"I said butt out." She chuckled mirthlessly to herself. "You know… I really was stupid. For a moment there I actually thought you cared. Ah well- you learn something new everyday."

With that she turned towards the door.

"Dylan!" called Cain, throwing himself out of bed (glad he had chosen to keep underwear on that night), "Dylan don't be-" he snatched her wrist as she laid a hand on the door handle. But she she looked at him, he realised that was a big mistake. "Before you throw me just listen," he stated, "I won- I can't stop you."

She snorted. "You really do learn fast…"

"I didn't come to the house just to check up on your family… I wanted to see you to-"

"Absolute bullshit," Dylan shrugged, twisted her wrist of his grip, "we're not naive children," she told him, eerily mirroring what she had said to him the last time they had been together alone in his room, "you don't need to lie to me to make things bet-"

She was cut off by the force of his kiss again. For a moment she was stunned, the next she had accepted the kiss, returning the gesture with the same force. That was until she almost caught herself. She pushed him off, with enough force to cause him to fall to the floor.

Cain looked up at her, glared up at her. Only to have equal or more ferocity returned to him. Though on dressed in flimsy pyjamas of pastel blue, face absent of any make up, looking the closest to child like he ever thought imaginable, just then she looked deadly. He was afraid of her.

"You really are narcissistic," she shrugged, "thinking kissing me would make me change my mind." She shook her head. "I'm going to bed… see you in the morning, my lord." She left very quickly. Cain staring after her, having not even half a chance to say anything to her.

Why was it with Dylan around, things could go from bad to worse in a drop of a hat… but, just as easily, things could become brighter.

Why did she have such an effect? How could he let himself feel it?

She may not like or agree with Delilah, but he knew all too well that she herself was dangerous on her own.


	6. Old Friends

5. Old Friends

It was déja vu amongst the household.

Mary and Dylan were still playing and pranking the servants and generally having fun, but Cain and the young woman were no longer even looking at each other the same way they had been previously. They no longer spoke unless they had to or were sitting together at a meal. Even then it was only polite words and small talk.

Dylan had reverted back to calling him 'my lord' or 'earl', but never by his first name. Cain now called her 'miss Dylan', appearing to know better than to call her 'my lady'. It was as though he did not wish to insight her wrath any more than he had already done.

Cain himself wished to be reconciled with the young woman, he missed her banter and light-hearted teasing. Yet after that night she seemed determined to cut him out of her life as much as she could.

Was it possible that now she had regretted that night with him? Did she believe that he only came to the Sedgewell house to investigate them? Or was she upset by the fact that he had tried to change her mind with a kiss? That she was offended?

Again Cain was surprised by the unending questions that appeared around Dylan when ever she was around. Though she had revealed to him about her special abilities, her contacts with the under world, her affiliation with Delilah, there were still other questions about her.

What was the real reason Margaret Garland hated her? How did she know so much about his life before meeting him? What was she not telling him about her family that she insisted on not letting him near them?

Somehow, things were made worse a few days before Dylan was due to leave. She had stayed on longer than the two weeks she had promised Mary, but he was also fully aware, from Mary not Dylan, that the young woman had argued with her father before coming to estates, as such she was dreading returning home.

It was due to the fact that both Oscar and Crehador had come to visit one evening.

Just before dinner, Mary and Dylan were sitting before the fire place, beside the roaring fire playing a complex card game that Cain was having trouble following. Every so often, one or the other would mutter a curse and have to pick up the pile of cards that had accumulated before them, or move them entirely out of the way looking pleased with themselves.

Under normal circumstances Cain would have wandered over, pulled Mary onto his lap and asked to have the game explained. He would have gotten a snide comment from Dylan, followed by a wink, then a long winded explanation from Mary, and a simplified version from Dylan.

But he did not want another outbreak of anger from the young woman.

The butler came in, making a beeline towards Cain's chair. Leaning down, the older man whispered something in Cain's ear. Even with Dylan's good hearing, by the time she had tuned into the sound levels of a whisper, the butler had straightened up. Scowling, Dylan returned to the game, and let out a cry of frustration, forced to pick up the pile of cards as Mary looked smug.

"Excuse me a moment," Cain said formally, standing as he left, following the butler out of the room.

"What is it, brother?" Mary asked, as a grumbling Dylan sorted out her cards irritably.

"We have a couple of guests, that's all," replied Cain easily.

Dylan's interest picked up. "Who might they be, Earl?"

"It hardly matters, miss Dylan," Cain stated, almost coldly, leaving the room with a flourish.

Mary glanced up at Dylan, as she concentrated on the multiple cards in her hands.

"What's wrong?" she asked dryly, dropping a card to start the next round.

"You made me pick up like half the pack!" howled Dylan.

"I meant with you and Cain."

"Oh… nothing."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep."

"But you two have been weird with each other for ages… he only calls you miss Dylan…"

She shrugged. "It's not my fault he's being weird."

Mary raised an eyebrow. "I knew you two sleeping with each other would be a bad idea."

Staring at little blonde girl, Dylan spluttered trying to form an answer to that most unexpected statement.

"You think I wouldn't know?" giggled Mary, "I guessed where you went when I came to your room."

"But but but but but-"

"I didn't know for certain," she admitted, "but now I am."

Dylan sighed, and leaned across to hug the girl. "You're too nosey… too… too…"

"Clever for my own good? Cain says that too."

There was a moment's stunned quiet as she sat back and looked at her little friend. "Well fuck me he does have a brain," she said finally, winking at her.

Mary giggled again. She had long since become accustomed to cursing. Growing up in the East End did mean that she did not exactly have the most savoury people surrounding her. And Cain did not always hold his tongue with her present.

Just then the door was flung open, as a severely heated conversation still echoed in the hall behind them, but stopped the moment the doors had been opened.

The girls looked at the three young men that had entered, Cain, looked ruffled, Oscar with a cigarette in his mouth looking a little stressed, and a third young man with light brown hair, a long cape and a generally irritable look on his face. This third young man looked very familiar to Dylan. It took her a moment to recognise him, simply for the fact that they had so suddenly entered the room.

"Dominic!" she exclaimed, at her feet in a moment, her face a picture of shock.

"Dylan?!" his came out more of a question.

A second later, Dylan had jumped up and thrown her arms around him, hugging him. He to returned the embrace. On neither side was the hug all that intimate, but there was certainly a closeness.

"How have you been?" Dylan started, pulling away from him, "it's been weeks! I am so sorry about Sheila… she was a good friend of mine."

"Don't worry about it, Dylan. I'm fine. I'm great. Currently working with the Earl here… but… uh… what are you doing here? I didn't know you knew Cain that well!"

"It's Mary I know well," she explained, as Oscar and Cain around the two looked on in almost shock, "the whole 'she grew up in the slums-'"

"'And you look after them' thing? Should have known," nodded Crehador, smiling a little.

"Well uh… sorry to interrupt this sweet little reunion," coughed Oscar apologetically.

Dylan jumped as she heard his voice, and turned to embrace him happily.

"Sorry Oscar," she said, pulled away from him, "I haven't seen this evil one for a few weeks." She glanced over her shoulder. "For which I am currently somewhat annoyed."

Crehador looked momentarily worried… almost scared, before resuming his usual indifferent expression. Which surprised Cain. Crehador never seemed to be worried about anything, let alone scared!

"So… how do you and Lord Crehador know each other?" asked Cain slowly.

"I could have sworn I told you I knew him, dear Earl of poisons," said Dylan easily, her tone so patronising it almost made Cain's teeth hurt, "he and I go far back… since I was about nine or ten I think?" She looked at Crehador quizzically.

"There abouts," Crehador shrugged.

"There abouts," Dylan agreed, "helped me out in a bit of a tight spot," she grinned in embarrassment, "he thought I was a boy at the time."

"You were dressed as one," he complained, "and when you're about nine males and females are hard to differentiate between."

"Fair enough," nodded Dylan, "but yeah… that's how I know Dominic." She looked up at the tall man, her grin still on her face, he seemed to return it with a similar smirk of understanding.

For a reason unbeknown to Cain, he felt a little pang of irritation at the look the medium and the Begger Queen shared. Only Mary seemed to noticed, but instead of making it obvious, she instead came to stand by Cain, taking his hand as she looked up at the two men.

"Good evening," she said quietly, "I hate to sound rude… but what are you here for exactly?"

"Mary!" beamed Oscar, bending down to take her little hand, "you look as lovely as ever-"

"Cut the crap, Oscar," sighed Dylan, hand on her hip, shooting a glance at Cain. It was only for a moment, the fact that she looked so irritatingly knowing it made Cain's blood begin to boil, "you're avoiding the question, annoying Mary and making our dear Earl here twitch."

Oscar glanced up at Cain. "Oh he doesn't mind-"

"Oh yes he does," Cain said coldly.

Understanding the icy tones, Oscar quite literally leapt away from Mary, in a defensive stance already. As though he was worried that Cain would attack him.

"Maybe we should sit down," offered Mary, hiding a smile, tugging on Cain's hand, "it would be more comfortable."

Cain nodded as Dylan moved aside for the men to walk into the room, Cain and Mary in the lead.

"Why didn't you tell me you were staying with the Hargreaves?" hissed Dominic in Dylan's ear.

"I thought I told him to tell you hey a few weeks back."

"Probably forgot."

She snorted. "Sounds like him." She glared at Cain's back. "Pain in the arse…" she muttered.

Dominic chuckled. "You never did loose your gutter mouth did you?"

She looked up at him, momentarily analysing his look. His smile was lopsided, but the way he looked at her was with the same teasing manner as always. Their relationship may have been rather complex; never enemies, not quite friends yet far more than simply allies; but their trust and manner with one another never changed.

Beaming in reply, Dylan told him, "you know what's weird… I actually missed you."

"Yeah… same to you, your majesty."

Laughing, the pair walked over to where the other's had accumulated.

It turned out that the visit was entirely business. As the men discussed in hushed tones their plans, Mary and Dylan started a second game, the same as the one Dylan had just lost (her complaints were very well voiced).

Every so often, the girls would hear the words 'mayor gloria' or 'hench man' or 'wife' and strangely enough 'private party' and 'stalking'. Completely nonplussed the girls eventually gave up listening in, and simply played their game.

Eventually there came another knock on the door, this time the butler announced that dinner was ready.

Practically rushing to Mary's side, Oscar offered her his hand to take her to dinner. Mary laughed, and accepted, but warned him against any funny business. With a glance and a wink at Dylan, he promised he would not dare.

As Dylan herself stood, she was surprised to see Cain making his way towards her, only to be intercepted by Crehador, who offered her his arm. Looked stunned, Dylan accepted the gesture with a stiff smile, following him out the door, glancing at Cain as they left.

"What did you do that for?" she whispered, "you hate the formality as much as I do!"

"And you Earl Hargreaves are having problems… we do not need an argument," he replied easily, "besides… it's more fun to watch him squirm when I take away the girl he so clearly wants to bed."

Dylan snorted. "Surely not," she gasped, "I never thought him to be-" Dominic simply gave her a long side long look, "ok fine… lay off, Dominic… I am not that naive."

"Oh hell do I know that," he winked at her, the two laughed as Cain almost stormed past them entering the dining room before them.

"Oooo… someone looks unhappy," muttered Dylan.

"You're not doing anything to make it better."

"Jeez… you know me, always taking the fun route."

"You're an evil woman, Dylan O'Toole… You really are."

"And you love it, Crehador."

Though the banter was light hearted, somewhat rude and flirtatious, Dylan was just grateful that she was able to make Dominic smile again. It was she who had known that though he paid her, Dominic had been in love with Sheila. It was Dylan who had told Sheila that he was, but that he was too afraid to admit it properly. And when she had been killed, it was Dylan that Dominic had turned to for help.

She remembered him stoney faced, sitting in that dingy room, only listening to her speak, then crying when he thought she was asleep. It killed her.

Now he was smiling again. As though he now had a purpose. She knew though she was the one who was making him smile, another was giving him a chance to have a purpose.

They entered the dining room, finding the others waiting for them. Mary and Oscar were opposite each other, with Cain at the head of the table and Mary on his right and Oscar on his left. Crehador escorted Dylan to her seat, pulling it out for her, bending to whisper in her eat as he tucked it beneath the table for her too; "I have the feeling there will be a few games tonight."

Covering her mouth, Dylan hid a smile and a laugh, sliding her eyes across to Cain, who narrowed his own golden green.

Throughout the starter and first half of the main coarse, Dylan and Crehador did little to join in with the rest of the conversation, watching Cain closely, as though expecting something to snap. They repeatedly glanced at each other, then had to cover their grins. It felt as though they were ten or eleven years old again, teasing the market vendors, waiting for one of their friends to annoy them so much that they left their stalls to chase after them which was when they made their move.

Cain had not failed to notice this. Their constant watching and shared looks irked him somewhat, needling at him. He began to wander just how well did the two know each other.

However, half way through the main coarse, something began to give in Cain.

"Miss Dylan," he began, looking directly at her.

"Yes milord," she replied easily, taking a sip of wine, using a very lower class accent that appeared to leave Oscar at a slight loss, that was until Crehador had leaned towards him and muttered an explanation.

"I am sure that you are aware that Lord Crehador here is a medium."

"A very gifted one, yes," she agreed easily, wandering where it was going to go.

"I wander… have you ever been given a chance to speak with your mother?'

She shook her head. "Oh no, never. Dominic used to always ask if I wanted to speak to my real mother. But… alas… I have always declined, and always will. I wish the dead to stay dead. Others may wish to have one last good bye, as far as I'm concerned, the only real good bye is the one in this life." She looked across at Crehador sadly. "I do not blame others for wanting to… nor do I blame him for his capability to… I just do not wish it for myself." She looked back towards a stunned looked Cain. "Why… milord?"

A nerve twitched in Cain's cheek and forehead. Yet he kept calm and cool. "Mere curiosity. As a girl having never really met their mother and having such a good friendship with that of a man who can reach across the unknown, I wandered if you had made use of his capability."

"Some abilities should be used, some can be and some should be left well enough alone," shrugged Dylan, "his is a cross between the latter two where as mine is more of the former two. Would you not agree, Dominic?"

Crehador nodded, swallowing the remnants of his final mouthful. "Of coarse. My gift is as temperamental as the spirit that would need to be dealt with. And that is nor always predictable, as we found out, did we not Earl?"

Cain nodded, shuddering, remembering being possessed by Sheila's spirit, feeling all the emotions at the time of her death. It was a painful experience.

"Cain?" came a soft voice.

He looked up startled, to see Mary looking at him curiously, "yes?"

"Are you well? You look a little strange?"

Cain shrugged. "I'm fine," he dismissed, as fussy little Mary pressed a hand to his head.

"You feel a little hot," argued Mary.

"You are a little pinker, Cain," nodded Oscar, suddenly appearing more serious.

Dylan was… surprised to say the least. She had never seen a serious side to him before. Though she had to admit, it was a good sign. She allowed a secret knowing look to cross her face, before assuming a particularly fake concerned expression.

Standing straight, Cain put his napkin on his plate. "I do feel a little strange," he admitted, "forgive me, I think I'll retire for the evening."

The others rose as he left the room quietly, a hand to his head Cain left without another word, only shooting a fleeting glance towards Dylan. He was surprised to see her looking purely confused. The moment she realised he was looking at her, her expression changed to being somewhat cocky and uncaring. Though it only lasted moment, Cain felt a little betrayed.

Up in his room, Cain finally admitted to himself it was not a fever that was causing his temper and temperature to rise, rather it was the interaction between Dylan and Crehador. He wandered how close the two really were, what had happened in the past between them, how much he knew about her. Somehow it made him feel outraged that Crehador could know more about enigmatic Dylan Sedgewell than himself. Though he did not know why or how. He and Dylan had not known each other as long as she and Crehador had, so it only made sense that she had put more trust in the medium than she had in Cain. Yet… the concept cut through Cain painfully, and he could not explain why.

Downstairs, Mary and Dylan spoke to one another quite contentedly, though it was quite obvious that Mary was worried about her brother and was already quite tired. She was after all still a young girl, nearing her teenaged years, but still not there yet.

Finally succumbing to her almost motherly ways, rather than a friend who would rather stay up longer to speak with her friend, Dylan stood half way through dessert, causing the men to stand too.

"I think me and Mary should head to bed," she stated, putting her fork down decidedly.

"I'm not tired," insisted Mary, suppressing a yawn.

"Hey kiddo," teased Dylan, bending down and scooping Mary up into her arms to kiss her forehead, "you are not fooling anyone. I'm falling to sleep on my feet here, you must be nearly dead."

Mary scowling, but settled her head beneath Dylan's chin, feeling secure in her arms. Though Dylan was such a light almost flimsy build, Mary was fully aware of the older girl's strength and capabilities.

"You boys are staying tonight right?" she asked, "I've asked the servants to make beds up for you just in case."

"You're too kind," Crehador replied, rolling his eyes.

"Hey ghost whisperer, you can sleep on the sofa," she responded as she walked out the door.

"Fine I'm grateful!" he called after her, sitting down again to finish his dessert, as did Oscar, who was feeling a little left out.

"Good!" came Dylan's final reply as the door shut behind the two girls.

"Uh… Crehador?" Oscar started timidly.

"Yes?"

"How well do you know Dylan?"

"She's gotten you to give up with the 'lady' thing as well?"

Oscar nodded. "I think I was given an extra chance though… if I had called her Lady one last time I think I would no longer be here today."

"That's Dylan for you," chuckled Crehador.

Oscar studied the man for a moment, and smiled. "She must mean a lot to you."

Spluttering Crehador looked up, "what makes you say that?"

"She can make you smile, you haven't smiled properly for weeks."

Crehador blushed a little. "Well… I guess she does… she has that effect on people… Yes… well… that and I do know her well… we're not exactly friends."

"You're not just allies," dismissed Oscar easily.

Crehador was at a loss. "I don't know… we're just… she… I…" he sighed heavily, "she's Dylan," was all the explanation he could offer.

Strangely enough, Oscar accepted it without question.


	7. Night Time Adventures

6. Night Time Adventures

That night, when Mary was fast asleep in Dylan's arms, and Dylan was still trying sleep, there came a knock on her door.

Though worried that Mary might wake, she hissed into the dark, "who is it?"

"Dominic," came the reply, "can I come in?"

"Mary's here," she replied, "your room?"

There was a moment's paused. "All right."

Easing herself out of Mary's grip, Dylan pulled her night gown on over her pyjamas and slipped out her door, finding herself immediately beside Dominic Crehador.

"Naughty boy," she teased, "sneaking to a woman's room at this late hour."

Smirking, Crehador caught her wrist and pinned her against the wall, their noses almost touching. "Naughty girl taking the invitation," he responded.

Dylan stifled a laugh, and put her arms around his neck, hugging him briefly again. Almost surprised, Dominic responded with an embrace of his own.

"I meant it, Dom, I did miss you," she said softly.

"And I meant what I said… strangely so did I," he replied as they released each other, smiling. He took hold of her hand, "come on, you have more explaining to do, and I have things to tell you. We can't talk here."

"Obviously," muttered Dylan, allowing herself to be pulled down the hall to his room, slightly unnerved to see it close to the Earl's room.

As they past his door, Dylan almost felt a pang. She did miss him, though she could never tell him that. She had her own pride and stubbornness to satisfy, not his. Though she did wander if Cain would be able to hear anything of herself and Dominic if he were awake. That worried her.

On entering the room, Dylan promptly took the bed, grabbing a pillow and holding it to her as she lay down on her belly, feet towards the head of the bed while she face the foot there of. Dominic hid a grin to see her looking so childish as he sat in the chair opposite.

"Dom…" she said slowly, "I know this is probably something you don-"

"You want to know the details of Sheila's death?" he asked easily.

Dylan blushed and looked away. "I don't mean to-"

"That's what I need to tell you. You know what I'm like, I'd never work with a noble like Cain, so there has to be a reason as to why I am."

"He's not that bad," mumbled Dylan, almost defensively.

Dominic raised an eyebrow.

"Okok… tell me all… we'll get onto me later."

Dominic launched into a long story of how Sheila had gone to meet mayor Gloria, dropped a present of his to her when with the mayor, went back to go get it and saw something horrific. Intending to go speak to her, Dominic and Cain instead found her drowned in a bath, a tarot card dropped.

Dylan's face became tight when she heard this, but said nothing. Dominic could clearly see this effecting her, and though he was not sure if he should go on or not, he knew all too well Dylan would stop him if she decided it was too painful for him or for her.

Explaining about how Oscar left Cain's side for a while, and Riff's betrayal of Cain, something clicked within Dylan.

"Riff killed Sheila?!" she interrupted by accident.

Crehador hesitated. "Riffael killed Sheila," he explained, "not Riff…" Dylan frowned. "He had two personalities, Riff was the one we knew and Cain so adored and Riffael was the one that had been locked away… Riffael is violent, cruel and a general bastard. He killed Sheila."

Dylan's eyes had become glossy with her tears, her eyes a dull blue colour. It was a classic sign she was hurting, but she had yet to stop him. So he continued.

He told her of their plot to avenge Sheila, by killing the Mayor and Garu, though it was the mayor they needed dead, Garu had done nothing to prevent the murder and therefore was guilty too. Yet the plan also consisted of a third party's death.

For a moment he was worried Dylan might raise objections. The murder of one innocent for the sake of the death of two evils would have been wrong in her eyes. But he had forgotten how much Sheila had meant to Dylan as well.

"Was this Cain's idea?" she asked.

Dominic nodded. "For a lord he's not that bad… even if he can act pretty stuck up at times."

Dylan snorted. "No kidding…"

Dominic watched her curiously. "You've slept with him haven't you?"

She looked up startled, then rolled her eyes. "How'd'ya guess?"

"The way he was acting. You haven't been giving him enough attention since then so he feels used and you… I don't know about you… but you two have argued since."

Again she rolled her eyes. "You know… I hate it when you know everything."

"Get used to it."

"Never." She sighed. "Yes… last time I was here… that… may have happened. But it's me and him… two black sheep of the upper class… he should know better than me that a one night thing is all it can be."

"Like you and me."

"Exactly." Then she paused. "No wait… nothing like you and me… we were pissed."

Dominic laughed. "I thought you had forgotten that bit."

"Mate… I was talking about chicken soup that night… how could I not have?!"

It set them both off laughing.

"I think it's this I missed," Dominic announced, glad that Dylan had become far more animated, "you and me talking…"

"Mmm…" agreed Dylan, now half falling asleep.

Dominic sighed and got up. "I've told you everything and guessed everything else, now you go to bed," he scolded her, helping her up.

Rubbing her eyes, she shook him off, walking towards the door. "I'll be fine. If a someone sees you helping me to bed, things could get ugly, if I make my own way back 'oh- I needed the bathroom and got the directions mixed up'."

As Dylan left, she could hear Dominic muttering, "too good for her own good…"

Suppressing the wish to retort to that, Dylan closed the door softly behind her.

Inside his room, Dominic, changed for bed finally. He had known that he would visit Dylan later that night, to tell her exactly what was going on, but he knew all too well she would not have expected it. It was all well and good when they were with his domain or even her's, the fact that they were friends was known to the Sedgewells, they were hardly ever surprised, especially when they were little, to find them up talking late into the night. Now older, such activities were thought to be far more sexual, and had to be done in secret. In one's own house, it was far easier than in a house one does not know so well.

He was glad to see her again. But upset to see her looking almost forlorn. It was hardly the earl's fault, he knew that much, though he would have loved to blame it on him. Ever since her seventeenth birthday and her coming of age party she had become more and more withdrawn to the world of the upper class, almost cutting herself off from them.

Yet at the same time, her visits to her people had become less and less frequent. Though she often would send money and supplies to them through trusted friends (often servants of the family), her presence was not as easily felt amongst them.

It was as though she knew the time was coming for her to part from her role as begger Queen, as though her dream for freedom was diminishing as she got older. She would never easily accept a marriage, but she knew all too well that soon she might even be forced into it. That is… if she did not accept Delilah's offer first.

Dominic sighed, falling into bed. Life was hard for women as it was, weather they were ordinary ladies or common market girls. Somehow for a woman like Dylan Sedgewell… Dylan O'Toole… life was even harder.

Glancing around the hall, just outside Dominic's room, Dylan felt at her element. It was hardly the streets of London, sneaking away from a policeman, but it was dark and all her hyper active senses were at their peak.

As such, Cain hiding in the shadows of his door was something she picked up on immediately. Rolling her eyes, she walked purposefully towards him.

She slammed her fist into the door beside his head as his golden green eyes were in the opposite direction. The sound echoed in the hall way, making him jump about a foot in the air.

Before he could make a sound, Dylan had her hand pressed against his mouth, pinning him against the door. As he struggled against her strength, he knew and she knew it was entirely futile.

Though the two were entirely cloaked in darkness, Dylan pressed them in closer to the door, not wanting to be seen by anyone. Even if it was Oscar stumbling out of bed for a midnight snack. Or, worse, Mary wandering out going to the bathroom.

"What the hell is your problem!" she hissed, her lips right beside his ear, "you checkin' up on me?!"

It was the first time the two had been in such close proximity since his sinful kiss, Cain could feel his heart beating fast, from the shock of being shoved against his own door when he had been so sure he could not have been seen. He could feel her breath of his neck, swirling through his hair sending shivers up and down his spine. The calluses on her finger tips were easily felt on his cheeks, her heart beat in her chest thudded against his arm and right side of his chest. Her eyes were brighter than ever, almost reflective in the dim light.

She dropped her hand from his mouth, watching him closely.

"I was just going to the bathroom-"

"Liar," she hissed.

He narrowed his eyes at her, but she was still in charge, it was her pinning him, it was her who could knock him out in a moment without a second's thought and humiliate him. He was hardly about to tease the dragon. Not again.

"All right fine, I saw you going into Crehador's room, I was just curious as to how long it would take you to be done with him."

Dylan raised an eye brow at him. "I'm sorry… what was that supposed to mean?"

It took Cain a moment to realise what he had said. "Oh shit- I didn't mean- not in tha-"

"Save it, Earl, goes to show what you really think of me," she snarled.

Shaking with anger, Cain snapped. "That is not what I think of you, you stupid woman! I was simply curious as to the relationship between the two of you-"

"Well don't worry, it's entirely platonic."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Doesn't explain why the two of you are so familiar with each other."

"You utter moron! Weren't you listening? We're friends from childhood, and you know what I'm like! When I'm comfortable with a person I don't abide by the norm that everyone seems to be obsessed with following. No wait… I forgot… you don't know what I'm like at all."

Stepping away from him she walked down the hall way towards her room. Cain was left speechless for a moment. Only a moment. The next he was by her side as she put her hand out to open her door.

"Why do you always do that? Try to have the last word?" he hissed

She snorted. "Because you're too slow to come up with a come back," she replied, her voice keeping to whispers to, smirking victoriously.

"Not this time- this time you listen to me. I do not know what image you have of me now, but to be honest I think it's only you covering up for something."

"What?!"

"Yes. You're covering up something, Dylan, I don't know what it is yet, but I'll find it."

"Covering… you listen here you pompous git, how can I cover up anything from you? I've got nothing to hide from you! I've told you about my status, I told you about my… my curse. Damnit- I've got nothing to hide from you physically either-!"

"So you finally acknowledge that night?"

The harsh whispers stopped entirely. She stared at him.

"Is that what it's about?" she asked, she was looking incredibly pleased with herself, "the earl was hurt because I would not-"

"It is not that," he snapped, feeling his cheeks heating up.

"Don't tell me you became emotionally attached?"

Cain suddenly looked away from her, his face was on fire, he was all too aware that of what the colour of his complexion must have been.

"The notorious womanising Cain Hargreaves… tamed by little misfit Dylan Sedgewell-"

"Thief and torturer of male hearts," he retorted, coldly, finally looking back at her, "you have that power and you know it."

"Your point is…? It's the only power a woman has in this day and age," she shrugged.

"Is that what you did with me? Used your 'power'?"

Dylan sighed and shook her head. "Our lives are far more complicated than that black and white. Had you been any other man, then yes, I would have to admit that. But it's you…" her eyes for a moment softened as she looked at him.

Something jumped in Cain's chest. Hope? Wishfulness? Something else?

Then her face hardened again. "And anyway, we're two black sheep, I've said this before, in our society any sort of courting would be a scandal. I don't need that right now, I have to put up with enough 'oh he's good' from people as it is. We had that night, that's it. It was in the past- leave it there."

Cain glared at her. "I will not _leave it there_," he snarled at her, cornering her against the door, his face suddenly barely an inch away from hers, "you're cold… you know that? Cold. Ice. Begger Queen, yes, Ice Queen too."

"Just realised that?"

Suddenly Cain stopped, shook his head and stepped away from her. This was hardly like him! To succumb to emotion like this. He was angry yes- but there were other ways to display such things.

"I apologise, miss Dylan, I was feeling rather strange tonight. I'll speak to you about this another time… when my head is clearer," he looked at her, her beautiful features were set to 'utter confusion'. Cain could not help but feel a little smug.

"Good night, my lord," she said softly, quickly retreating into her room, closing the door behind her.

Almost running to her bed, she climbed in and pulled Mary towards her holding her close. Cain had scared her. She had began to feel so alive arguing with him like that, she thought she had finally been able to draw out the emotional side to Cain that he liked to hide behind rationality and brains. And then he snapped. He changed. Becoming cold again.

He may have called her and 'Ice Queen', but at least she knew she could tell people where they stood with her. Why did he struggle to do so? It made no sense.

Dylan shook her head, hiding her face in the mane of gold that was Mary's hair. Of all the bastards she felt closest to… Cain Hargreaves had to be the one where she felt there might be a real understanding. So why was he so confusing? She was hardly that bad.

Was she?

Cain chuckled to himself as he walked back to his room. He was glad he had pulled out of the argument when he had. This way he had time to think, and there would be more time for him to speak to her later. He could gather his thoughts, speak to her rationally, without her springing any ideas on him that could throw him as she had shown that she clearly could.

Next time he could be ready for her.


	8. Journey Back Again

A/N: :( no reviews yet…

7. Journey Back Again

When it came time to leave, Dylan almost felt as though she was escaping from the estates. Though when she was with Mary she felt as though she was having a lot of fun, whether it was looking about town or simply cooking with Louise. It was Cain that caused her to feel so oppressed.

After that night, he ignored her. Even at dinner he refused to speak to her. But it was hardly the same as it had been before, this time he refused to speak with her, but he watched her closely. When ever she was within his vicinity she could feel his strange eyes following hrevier, watching her every move. It was the first time in a very long time Dylan had truly felt afraid of a man.

It was hardly curiosity as it had been when she had visited the last, this was almost vindictive, stalking almost.

Mary had noticed too, but with the mood Cain was in, she felt it was hardly right to invoke any anger within him. Besides, he seemed to have with drawn away from everything again.

As Mary hugged Dylan good bye, she looked around almost nervously for her brother.

"Cain won't come down," insisted Dylan, "stop fussing."

"I can't help it. You two have been weird with each other for far too long. Worse after Lord Crehador and Oscar left."

Dylan rolled her eyes. "Seriously, baby, you don't want to know… your brother has issues."

Mary scowled. "So? You're not perfect."

There was a moment's pause, then Dylan burst out laughing. "You know… you are a lot like him some times, hard to believe you didn't grow up with him really."

Grinning, Mary hugged Dylan again. "This time you write to me and you don't forget. It's not fair. We saw each other less in these few months than we have done before that."

"I know… I'm so sorry." She glanced at the carriage. "I really should get-"

"Miss Dylan," came an unexpected voice from the door way.

The two girls spun round, both pairs of eyes wide with surprise.

"Might I join you? I would not wish for you to become bored on your way home…" he smirked at her, he suddenly appeared far more relaxed that he had done for a while. A hand was in a pocket, pushing aside a portion of his blazer revealing a white shirt.

"I would not wish to cause you any-"

"I insist," he interrupted her, coming down the stairs to meet them, taking her hand in his, "what sort of host would I be if I did not escort my guest home?"

"But Mary-"

"Our Aunt Katrina is here look after her, do not worry so much, miss Dylan."

Her eyes narrowed at him. Why did he have to be so patronizing? Why was he so smug? What was he game?

"I would be honoured," she said, taking her hand from his and curtsies, not taking her eyes off him for a moment, "I'll write to you soon Mary."

"You had better," the little girl grumbled.

Dylan looked at her, her face softening. "Well you better write back."

"It's a deal, now go away so you can come back again sooner."

Dylan beamed at her little friend, and climbed into the carriage.

"Ok older brother, what the hell are you up to?" Mary demanded.

"Nothing!" he insisted, sweeping her up into his arms. But when she crossed her arms he sighed. "I just need to speak to her. I haven't found the words since she was here. I was hoping being forced to spend a few hours in a confined space with me might make her listen to me."

The younger girl snorted. "Keep dreaming…" she bent and kissed her brother's cheek, "but good luck."

"I think I'm going to need it," Cain agreed apprehensively, kissing his sister goodbye and setting her on the ground as he climbed into the carriage beside Dylan.

A moment later, the carriage lurched away, with a thoroughly bored looking Cain and irritable Dylan inside.

The majority of the trip was in silence, the two either gazing out the window, reading or in general avoiding each other's eyes. The air was tense. Yet it seemed altogether strange for the two of them to have such animosity between them. At the same time, neither of them had the strength to quash their pride.

Cain finally spoke.

"Dylan listen, what I said… right at the beginning about coming to your house to investigate your family… you do know that-"

"Wasn't the only reason you came," she said easily, staring out the window, "I know that. I'm not stupid."

"So… why did you become so upset about it…?"

"That was hardly what I was upset about," her tone was flat, unemotional.

"Then why did you get so angry with me? You didn't speak to me since then!"

"You seemed to think you could make me melt if you simply kissed me," she stated, finally looking at him, "you treated me as I was any other lady that you needed something from. And don't tell me you don't do that," she chuckled, "girls who are so naive to the world… start freaking out if a male so much as brushes their arm… you can hardly resist!"

"You're not better," he snapped, then caught himself, forcing himself to become distant again, "you admitted yourself you liked to use your power over men."

"I was never denying that," she shrugged, looking out the window again. Though this time she had a small smile on her lips. The air cleared a little.

But Cain wasn't done yet.

"That night with Crehador," he started.

"Oh Jesus Christ man!" she groaned, she turned back to him, "he is my friend… my ally! We talked- that's it! He told me what was going on. I mean jeez- he's worse than me when it comes to nobles. I was surprised to hear about him from you."

"But even for childhood friends… I mean he never mentioned you."

"He doesn't like to associate himself too closely with the upper class. And why would you have such a problem with it even if I was sleeping with him?"

Cain winced.

Dylan softened.

"You can't… still have… not about that night… surely not really…"

"What? You don't?"

"How can I? Socially it doesn't make sense. And you're my friend's brother… that makes it stranger… if people caught wind of-"

"So what?!" snapped Cain, "why should that matter? Least of all to you!"

"My family, dumbass! You know my father will refuse to even marry me off until my bothers and my sisters have been. He hates the idea that I shared a house with a single male in the same building!"

"No one had to find out-"

"People talk," she said, exasperatedly, "Jesus… Cain! Why do you care so much anyway? It was one night… only one night. You can't base your feelings on that. I mean hell- I'm the product of that! At least you were the product of love."

He glared at her. "Sick, twisted, sinful-"

"How can you say that? He was in love with her… and… maybe she with him, he would not have been able to force her that easily… I mean… have you seen how hard it is to get out of these damn dresses?!"

Even in his angered state, a smile was glimpsed on Cain's face.

"I don't know what you think you feel at the moment, but forget it. It's not worth the hassle." She sighed heavily and looked away. She said nothing more.

He frowned at her. She was still hiding something.

"You can't just disregard emotion like that," he insisted.

"Give it up!" she snarled, looking up at him angrily, her eyes ablaze, finally, with the fire she seemed to have been dousing for so long. Though Cain knew the anger was directed at himself, he hardly cared. She looked alive! "I wanted us to be friends. Like how Dominic and I are."

"You slept with him too?"

"That is hardly-" Cain had an eye brow raised, "ok fine… him too… but we were pissed at the time, young and… well… stupid, so it can't really count."

He had expected an answer to that. It shocked him. Crehador really did know this girl better than he and before himself as well! Why did it hurt so much?

There was a moment's quiet.

"Cain?" Dylan asked softly, finally using his first name.

"You're step mother's family is related to mine," he said suddenly.

"What?" Dylan wandered for a moment if Cain was going insane.

"Margaret Garland's son, Fredrick Garland, he married my cousin. Lovely wedding apparently. I don't know, I was too young. But you see… the strange thing is… there was something wrong with Fredrick… and somehow, it seems to have started after he ended his relationship with a woman who was a ward of some kind to Margaret Garland. A miss Natalie O'Toole? Could she have been related to you? Certainly sounds like she could be."

The news did not seem to have any effect on Dylan what so ever, she just stared at him then looked away.

"I told you, keep out of my family's business, let my mother rest in peace."

"Natalie O'Toole was your mother? Oh? And she was a ward of a noble family? How did that come about?"

"I said leave it alone."

"Could that have been how she met Alfred Sedgewell? Was that the reason the relationship ended-"

"Mum was in love with Fredrick!" snapped Dylan finally, something inside her gave way, she could hardly take it any more, "but they agreed to call it off when he was diagnosed with a disease! I don't know the details but I know that much."

Suddenly it seemed she had spoken too much, her hands came to her mouth, and she looked away.

Cain was startled.

So she was aware… What else was she aware of?

"I said leave it. That is my territory. I will not stop you researching, my lord, but I will not abide my family's privacy being violated," she said quietly. The thing that had snapped had clicked back into place. Only now, Dylan was colder than ever towards the young earl.

Though he tried again and again to get her to speak, it was all in vain. She did not speak another word to him.

Not only did this make him more suspicious of her, at the same time it made him more and more drawn to her.

As much as she told him that night could not mean anything to either of them, he refused to accept that.

And that was what surprised him most of all. Normally such a thing would not mean anything more than it was to him. This time… this time it felt as though he was letting something of himself go if he let that emotion go as she told him to. He could not do that. He would not do that.

When they reached her house, she dutifully invited him in doors for some tea.

On seeing her so stiff, Cain declined, and took of his hat.

"I must be getting home, Mary will worry."

"Of coarse," agreed Dylan, bowing her head.

Suddenly, she felt her hand taken by his again and she glanced up. She looked at him, seeing him bowing at the waist towards her, one arm sweeping across his middle. He pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles and pulled her close as he stood.

"I'll leave you to your territory, but if Delilah becomes involved- so will I. I will not have my father harm you."

"I can look after myself," she retorted.

"I know that, my mysterious queen, but to know that Alexis had any part if hurting you… I cannot and will not allow that."

"Only because of Mar-"

"No. This time I am being selfish. This time it's for me."

He stepped away from her and replaced his hat. "Good day, miss Dylan."

She stared at him, unable to find the words to speak. It was his self satisfied smirk that snapped her back to reality.

"And you, my lord."

As Cain climbed into the carriage he smiled to himself. He hoped he had made himself clear. Perhaps not saying the words he might have gave him time to consider if he would mean them, but at least the woman would know there was something.

Dylan on the other hand, forgot to help with the baggage, did not stop to ask where her family was, and ran into her house, up the stairs and into her room, locking the door behind her.

Her chest heaved as her panting increased. It was not from her running, but from Cain.

How dare he! How dare he say such things to her! Make her feel such… such…

Unable to find the words suitable for his misdeed, Dylan felt tears fall down her face. The force of the emotion over the past few days finally caught up with her and she cried. Holding herself, shoulders shaking, tears pouring down her face, not a sound escaped her mouth. Her sobs were entirely silent.

She cried alone and soundlessly. It was the way it had to be.

Later that evening, just after dinner, she went searching for her two closest friends in the house, Lee and Mark. She could not find them anywhere!

Lee wasn't in the kitchen helping to clean up and Mark was not in the stables. It was hardly like them. Normally, they were the first people to greet her, standing in the front in the guise that they wished to help with the baggage. They were no where to be seen just then.

Sighing heavily, Dylan sat in the stable on a bale of hay. She was tired… perhaps they had been sent on an errand into London and stopped off to see their family on the way home. Those two were local boys and so it was entirely likely.

There was a knock on the stable doors, causing her to look up. She caught sight of the tall and all too slender figure of her older brother Albert.

"Thought I'd find you here," he said gently, his kindly face smiling as he leaned against the door frame, his hands in his pockets as he watched his sister.

"What are you doing here?!" Dylan snapped, jumping to her feet, rushing over to him, "it's far too cold for you to be out at this time. If you get sick again-"

Albert was laughing. "You really are the fussiest girl I know," he said in his soft, gentle way.

"It's not my fault you get sick," she retorted angrily, "get inside now."

"Let's stay here," he said, taking her hand, pulling her back into the large room.

Dylan sighed, but allowed her favoured older brother to lead her back to her bale of hay.

Albert looked very similar to Sebastian, though them being twins it was hardly surprising. The two stood at about the same height, the same chocolate brown hair, the same blue eyes and the same build.

But there were fundamental differences between the two as well: though they stood at the same height, Albert slouched a little out of habit; while Sebastian's hair was thick and easily styled, Albert's was thin and left well enough alone; instead of having icy blue eyes, his were much warmer, more welcoming; and his build instead of being solid and muscular was slender and thin, as a result of being sick so often and having to be so careful of what he ate.

For Dylan, it was a comfort that this brother looked almost nothing like the cruel Sebastian.

"So how was your stay with our lovely Mary?" he asked, as the two sat down.

"Fun!" beamed Dylan happily, "we just messed around and I didn't have to care what anyone thought of me or the whole suitor business. It was fantastic!"

"You really hate that don't you," chuckled Albert, "I always wandered how this would turn out for you."

"You knew it could hardly have been done in any other way," she smiled, "but it was fun."

"The earl didn't try to make any… advances?"

"Oh hardly, Cain knew better than to try and do anything of the sort," grinned Dylan, wandering why she was lying to Albert, "besides, what interest would he have in a black sheep?"

"You put yourself down far too much," sighed Albert, gently putting an arm around her, "you'll find someone."

"I don't want to," muttered Dylan, "I want to live on my own… be my own woman."

Albert chuckled. "You are a dreamer. You know that can never happen."

"I can wish." She looked up at him. "Bert?"

"Yes?"

"What happened to Lee and Mark? Kitchen boy and stable boy?"

He frowned. "I don't know… I heard an argument between the two of them and the butler one night, I didn't see them again after that. Father knows I'm sure, but I think they were dismissed."

"On what grounds?!"

"Talk to Creevey, they were arguing with him."

"Creepy Creevey? No way…"

Albert stared down at her then started laughing almost uncontrollably. "I'd forgotten we called him that!" he wheezed, forcing himself to calm down.

He caught sight of his sister looking a little lost still, he sighed and stood up, holding a hand out for her.

"Come on, we'll see if we can steal some chocolate cake."

Dylan looked up startled, it had been a while since they had even considered doing such a thing. Albert grinned as she took his hand.

"I knew the sound of cake would snap you out of it," he told her looking pleased with himself.

"Oh you know me too well," she replied quite happily, closing the stable doors behind them as they left.

That same evening with, as Mary attempted to teach Cain the game Dylan and herself played repeatedly while she had been there, her own curiousity got the better of her.

"Older brother? What made you and Dylan act so… strange win one another?"

"It's nothing Mary," he said dismissively, "what does a ten mean aga-"

"Of coarse it matters! You two are the two most important people in the world to me, if you two argue…" she trailed off, "it just feels weird."

"Mary, just… just leave it be," he sighed, "it's nothing. We had a disagreement, that's all. We're all right now."

But Mary was all too aware of the fact that Cain was not looking her in the eyes as he asked her further questions about the game.

As much as he liked to pretend to disengage himself from the world and pretend not to feel things as violently as he did, Mary knew him too well to see through the charade.

'Oh Cain… you stupid, stupid boy…'


	9. Suits and Suitors

A/N: still no reviews… this is getting thoroughly depressing now…

8. Suits and Suitors

It was maybe two days later, on the night where Cain and Crehador visited the club which would spark of the series of events to the goal of revenge, when Alfred Sedgewell broke some unexpected news to Dylan.

It was breakfast, only Alfred, Dylan, Sebastian and Charmaine were at the breakfast table eating together. Dylan was still quiet after her carriage ride with Cain, but somehow she had become more herself than she had done in a long time. As though Cain had woken her up from a stupor that had come to control her.

Yet at the same time, there was no news for the where abouts of her two good friends. There had not even been a letter to her from them. The fact that they had been fired hardly surprised her, the two had become far too opinionated for their status. She supposed they were lying low for a little and were looking for another job and would contact her then. But she still worried for them.

"Dylan," Alfred said suddenly.

"Yes father?" she replied politely, looking up at him.

"We have a couple of guests coming tonight. Just a small party. But I have two friends of mine I wish to introduce to you; Lord Pierre Malfoy, the French aristocrat, and his son, John Malfoy."

"John?" Charmaine said suddenly, "that doesn't sound like a very French name."

"Master Malfoy was educated in England," explained Alfred, "par to is late wife's wishes, she was an English noble, as such he translated his name to English while he was here."

"So his real name is Jean?" asked the girl, "oh I much prefer that name! Do you thin he would mind if we called him that?"

Sebastian hid a smile as Charmaine twittered on, as did Dylan. The two caught each other's eye quite by accident, and turned away from each other. Dylan was unsure why, but she felt uncomfortable when ever her expression mirrored that of her oldest brother's.

"I do not know, Charmaine," sighed Alfred, "but Dylan."

She snapped her attention towards him.

"He is a possible suitor for you."

There was quiet at the table. Charmaine looking shocked and Sebastian utterly confused.

"But… father… you always say… no," stammered Dylan.

"He is a good friend," Alfred admitted, "I would not wish to offend them so easily. Further more, it was Lord Malfoy who displayed interest in the union between yourself and his son, not John."

"Oh…"

"I will not call off the visit," he said slowly, "but… but if you do not wish any such union between he and yourself, I will tell his father that I will not approve the marriage." Dylan looked up at her father startled. "This must be your own choice."

Startled Dylan struggled with what to say. Instead, she lowered her eyes to her food and muttered, "thank you father."

Though no one else had seen it, Alfred himself smiled a little.

That night, Dylan's independent streak was back. Her father's words of 'possible suitor' had cut through the fact that he was telling her it was her choice, and was in fact making her angry. Before the guests had even arrived, she was causing a raucous.

Having locked her door, no one seemed to be able to calm her down. Her anger was unsurpassed. Not even Lily could quench the fire.

"Darling please," her stepmother called through the door, "they'll be here soon! Do you not wish to make a good impression?"

"I don't care!" she snapped back, slipping into a dark dress, for going out rather than impressing young men, she struggled to do up the back but managed it, "all these men are the same! They want the damn money- not me!"

"But honey, this one hasn't proposed-"

"His father did- that's worse!"

"Just get changed… you don't have to be nice, just say hello and leave, that's all-"

"No mama, not likely."

Outside Lily sighed heavily. Sebastian leaned on the wall beside his mother.

"Ma, do you really think that's going to work? The woman is impossible," he told her, "she's far too stubborn. I'm almost not surprised father said no to all the men previously. It saved him the embarrassment of her becoming like this."

"Seb, be nice," Lily sighed, "she's just… just…"

"I am being nice, I know her. Do not force her, perhaps she'll reconsider if you leave her alone."

Lily looked momentarily confused. "You're being awfully understanding of her darling."

Sebastian shrugged. "She may be the product of sin, but she is partly my blood. I cannot cast her out of my heart forever."

Smiling, Lily relented. "I understand. But do you really think that will work? Dylan is so stubborn. This match between her and young John will be perfect!"

He nodded, walking away, "I'm sure it will." There was a glint in his eye as he glanced at Dylan's door as he passed it, a smirk upon his face. As though he knew more than he let on.

Pausing for a second Lily glanced back at the door, as if checking on Dylan through the wood, then left her stepdaughter be. Perhaps she would calm down.

Dylan herself was pulling on a warm jacket over her slim frame. It was old and worn, and perfect for sneaking out of the her second floor room.

She pulled open her window, casting her eyes about. She paused, then closed her eyes, opening her mind to her friends.

_What's happening out there, _she asked, projecting her voice through any animal she could sense.

_Some people have just arrived_, a dove replied, Dylan could sense him swooping near the front of the house, _people are getting out. Are they coming to visit you, sister?_

_Unfortunately, yes, brother, I'm sneaking out._

_Good, I don't like them…_

Dylan chuckled. This was a dove she knew well, he liked to stay near by the house, he liked Gwen. But he was a bit of a fear-mongerer.

She withdrew her thoughts, stood straighter, tucking her skirts into her trousers beneath her dress, then pulled herself out onto the window pane. She held onto the edge and judged the distance between herself and the piping the jutted out of the wall. It was half way between the second floor and and the ground. She she managed to reach it she could drop to the floor without hurting herself.

She looked across at the oak that grew near to her window. She did not dare climb onto that, the branches nearest her room were too weak. Muttering curses, she readied herself for the jump.

Springing from the ledge, she had a moment's feeling of weightlessness, then she grabbed the piping, jerking her from her free fall. She swung her body back and forth to stop the jarring of the catch effect her shoulder's too much. She could feel no discomfort and could therefore tell nothing was injured.

She glanced down at the grass below. She would have to bend her knees and roll to break the fall. With a deep breath, putting all her trust in the strength of her body, Dylan let go of the piping. The minute she felt her feet touch hard ground, her knees bent and her body rolled minimising the impact.

She stood up, shaking out her limbs, and untucking her dress from her trousers beneath. Brushing her dress down, she glanced around suspiciously, and hurried to the privet bushes that surrounded the land.

Keeping to the shadows, she followed the perimeter of the bushes towards the front gate. She glanced back to the front of the house. There was no one there, not that she could see. Confident, she walked towards the gates; here she was visible, with little chance of being able to escape if seen.

Which was unfortunately when she heard the crunch of foot steps on gravel. They were uncomfortably close. In a panic, Dylan, ran towards the bushes besides the gate, hiding amongst the leaves and shadows, she looked out.

"Hiding from someone," came a quiet, cultured voice.

With a gasp, her heart hammering in her chest, Dylan spun round. It had been years since anyone had snuck up on her.

She could see a young man, not much older than herself looking down at her. He was tall, slimly built. She could not quite see what he was wearing, nor see his face properly. She did not dare tune into the darkness for fear of loosing concentration on other things, it had been too long since she had used her acute senses.

"Yes," she replied, almost angrily, "why? Who are you?"

"Just a guest of Count Sedgewell's," he shrugged, "from the small party he seems to be having… not quite sure what the occasion is actually."

"A friend of my father's?"

"The son there of any way. I've never met him… your father?!" it was his turn to sound surprised.

"Yes…" she crossed her arms, "I'm Dylan Sedgewell- the illegitimate daughter."

"As far as I'm aware, you were legitimised… and besides," she could sense him smiling, "that is hardly the reputation you come with."

"It's not?"

"Oh goodness me, no. More along the lines of… beautiful, opinionated heart breaker."

Dylan laughed, then caught herself and bit her lip. "I'll agree with the opinionated bit."

"I would love to say beautiful is true as well, but I can hardly see you in this light."

That was when Dylan was reminded that she was escaping. "I have to go," she said suddenly, "I hate parties like this… they drive me mad."

There was a pause. "Do you have to go?" he asked, "we've only just met."

She chuckled again. "Trust me, that's where you want to leave it."

"But I've heard so much about you. I know your brothers, Sebastian and Albert… admittedly Seb is a bit of… well… he's not always very nice. But Bertie and I get one famously."

"Really? Wow… you do know my family well."

"It can't be helped," he sighed, "aristocracy seems almost inbred these days."

"Until you see someone like me legitimised," she chuckled.

"And that's what makes a party like this so interesting."

"Oh stop you're making me blush!" she grinned.

She felt so strangely at ease with this nameless stranger. Suddenly she did not feel like sneaking out. Perhaps she could stay a little and speak to this man. He treated her with a strange amount of respect. He was clearly one of the upper class, but he treated her like a person!

"Come, my lady, let's sit down, talking in the shadows might give the wrong impression if your father comes out?"

Dylan had half a mind to tell him that she hardly cared about what her father had to say, but changed her mind. She hardly wanted this young man to feel uncomfortable.

She accepted the arm he held out for her and followed him out into the light of the setting sun onto a decorative stone bench in the front garden.

"Will you stay, my lady-" he started.

"Firstly, do not call me my lady… I hate it. Secondly… for a while perhaps… but don't expect me to stay for the party."

"If your father catches you?"

"I'll become a child and lock myself in my room."

She looked up at him as he nodded. He was dressed in a suit, black pants, coat and tails and waist coat. His shirt was snow white and his shoes glossy black. His hair was a light brown, cut short, falling to his forehead, just off his impossibly dark eyes. He had a wide mouth, and a friendly face. He seemed nice enough.

"Fair enough," he agreed, "I would too… but I guess I'm a bit old for that now."

"You're hardly that much older than me," she said, an eye brow raised.

"I'm twenty one," he told her proudly.

An eye brow of hers became raised. "Oh so old."

"What would you say is old?"

"Twenty five," she nodded, her face serious, crossing her arms decidedly, then winked, "but seriously, I'm seventeen, twenty-one doesn't sound that old to me. You're only four years older than me."

"Four years old is a life time to some people," he complained.

"Hardly."

"That's it! I agree with the opinionated it!" he declared, "the beautiful part is fairly obvious- but opinionated is definitely true."

"This is age… wait till I start on politics."

"You like politics."

"Women have opinions too… we're just not allowed to show th-"

"DYLAN!" a sharp voice called across the lawn.

"Fuckit," she muttered jumping to her feet.

"Too late," the man said standing slowly, nodding over towards the house, "that's my father too."

"Oh fucker…" she mumbled, sitting down again angrily.

"You really don't talk like a lady," he said, sceptically.

"Your point?" she said miserably.

By then Alfred Sedgewell arrived with his companion. The man was short and round. He had a round red face and a balding his head. His green eyes were watery, but strangely watching.

"What are you doing out here, Dylan," Alfred asked, sighing heavily.

"I needed a walk," she said stonily, looking at him in contempt, "or is that illegal now too?"

"Don't start," he said warningly.

"Oh leave her be, Alfie," the man beside the taller man said, a slight french tinge to his words, "she's free spirited."

Alfred appeared to become aware that the two of them were not alone, and therefore could not scowled her just yet. Instead, became a Count instead of a father; "Dylan, this is my friend Lord Pierre Malfoy, and his son Jean Malfoy."

Startled, Dylan looked at the man she had been speaking to. He took a step back and bowed low from the hips.

"A pleasure to meet you, my lady Dylan," he said softly. Even from this angle, Dylan could see him blushing.

She turned back to see Lord Malfoy doing the same. Flustered, she returned the gesture with a quick curtsy.

"My lord," she said softly, rising again.

"Alfie, she is delightful!" exclaimed Lord Malfoy.

"Yes," nodded Alfred, his teeth gritted as Dylan glared at Jean from the corner of her eye.

"How do you find my son then, lady Dylan?"

"Father please!" snapped Jean, coming foreword, "this is embarrassing. How can you ask that?"

"I'm only asking," shrugged lord Malfoy.

"Might we go back to the house?" asked Alfred suddenly, "and please Dylan, get changed into something more appropriate."

Dylan looked up at her father sharply. "Try no," she snapped, and walked away from the group of men angrily, towards the front of her house. She was fuming.

Why hadn't he admitted to her who he was? She had assumed he was simply shy before, or had something to hide, but if he was the man whose father had proposed a marriage, he could have at least had the decency to tell her who he was when they met at first.

A moment later, she became aware aware of of a presence beside her. She glanced up to see the younger Malfoy walking at her pace.

"Yes sir?" she asked, mildly.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out.

She stopped walking and looked up at him. "What?"

"I'm sorry," he repeated, slower, having stopped beside her, "I should have introduced myself. I kept my identify from you and I shouldn't have. To be fair, you didn't ask, but that's hardly the point. I really am sorry."

She stared at him. "You do not have to be, my lo-"

"No don't, don't call me my lord, I don't like it… there's enough segregation here as it is… you don't like being called lady, I don't like being called lord. Fair?"

She really stared hard at him this time. It was like hearing herself speak! Only… rather more timid and… well… manly. "Fair…" she agreed slowly, "but… who are you exactly?"

"Jean Mikael Malfoy, heir to Lord Malfoy of France," he said, strangely humbly, bowing again, "visitor to England." He paused as a blush crept across his cheeks. "It was… my father who asked for you and I to wed…" he stared at the floor, unable to meet her gaze.

She chuckled. "So I heard. What do you make of it?"

"Me?!" his turn to be startled he looked up at her, "it's my father's wish. But I will not do something unless I agree to it whole heartedly. And in this case, unless you do too."

"You see… we have a problem there then," she pointed out, crossing her arms, "I do not wish to marry. Especially under the constraints of an arranged marriage. Tu comprends?"

"Je comprends," he agreed nodding, "and I thought as much… I have heard much about you. You're often the talk of the gossips."

"Sadly, that is understandable…"

"Which is why I didn't tell you who I was," he sighed, "I wanted to get to know you, at least for a little, as you… not as some sort of marriage prospect. And even now, I still want to. You fascinate me, miss Dylan. You're a stunning beauty and with a brain unsurpassed by many males."

"In that case I have a confession to make… I'm rubbish at geography."

He laughed. "And a strange sense of humour. But you are… terribly fascinating. I'm not saying that if we meet in the future it should be under the shadow of a possible marriage- that would be awful! But… could be possible for you and I… to meet again… as friends?"

"Friends? Really? Are you sure you want to? You've heard my reputation… especially towards men."

"And that simply makes me ever more curious."

Dylan watched his face, studying him closely. His eyes seemed genuine, there was nothing hidden, no twinkle in his eye. His face hopeful, awaiting her answer.

She sighed. "Oh all right… I'll admit, you make me curious to… a frog in England… hardly makes sense to me. No offence meant of coarse."

"Of coarse," he agreed, chuckling, "and thank you. Won't you attend the party tonight?"

"Hardly likely," she replied easily, "I told you- I hate them." She smiled at him, and walked off towards the house, faster this time. In almost no time at all she was back in her room, locking the door, refusing to leave again.

Jean Mikael Malfoy… a most interesting young man. Clearly his views would not be the same as her, but his ideals appeared similar. He was a lovely person… and so genuine.

She smiled to herself happily, as someone or another thumped on her door, her eyes closed gently.

And he was so good looking. His frame may have been slim, but she sincerely doubted it he was skinny. His face was kind, but not weak, he was very handsome. And his accent… across between the upper class and tint of french aristocracy.

The figure of a man dressed in black, with black hair, fair skin and golden eyes flashed behind her lids.

She gasped and her eyes snapped open.

Cain…

Damn him! What was he doing in her thoughts again! He had no right to be there!

There was nothing between them. Nothing at all. She had made that perfectly clear. Yes she would admit there was a certain amount of emotion there, but only as far as a friend… a good friend. She broke ties with him, she had hoped, to protect him.

There was a reason she told him not to research her family, but that damn earl was too curious for his own good. Curiosity killed the cat… she did not want that to happen to him.

No. She could not think of him.

Besides, such a union between them ws unthinkable.

And he seemed to only think of her as a body… he proved it that night.

Why did she need to justify herself anyway?

There was nothing there!

Again his smug face appeared before her eyes.

"I hate you," she muttered angrily, moving away from the door.

Back down stairs, after it was very evident that Dylan would not be joining them, Alfred was finally able to corner Jean. He found the young french man speaking with Albert by the fire place, drink in hand.

"Excuse me, Albert," Alfred said calmly, "I need a word with your friend here."

Albert looked momentarily surprised. "Uh… of coarse father, I'll get myself another drink." Bowing his head towards his father then his friend, he left the two alone.

"Master Jean," Alfred began, not at all warmly, "forgive my impertinence, but what do you think of my daughter?"

"Which one, sir, all three of your daughters are beautiful creatures," Jean replied quite calmly.

"My eldest, Dylan," Alfred had no time for jokes, he did not appreciate them.

Here Jean seemed to blush. "She's… she's lovely. Intimidating, but an interesting person indeed.

"Is that so?"

"Yes sir, most definitely. I hope to get to know her better."

Alfred scowled. "I must warn you, she is a free spirited girl and a fiery one at that."

"Of that I am fully aware," replied Jean easily, though now he appeared to be becoming more and more angry. He managed to disguise it with polite words very well, "but I cannot allow that to become an issue. I believe a woman has the right to an opinion."

Alfred studied him carefully. "Be aware of who she is, master Jean," he stated finally, and left as Albert returned.

"What was that about?" he asked, in surprise.

"Your father warding me off your sister, I presume," Jean replied, shrugging.

In a large hall, almost empty of anything, Alexis Hargreavs sat at a throne on a pedestal. Around him were four of his followers.

Mikeala sat at is feet, her head in his lap as he played with her lovely deep brown locks. On his left, stood Ida, Moon, ever vigilant to her master's well-being. On his right, leaning against the back of the throne, his back turned towards everyone, the solitary figure of Rifael, staring at the floor as though lost in thought. Seated on the steps beside Alexis' feet, looking at the door opposite was his son, Jezebel, his face expressionless.

"Oh you are clever," sighed Mikaela, "that poor poor girl… betrayed by her lover…"

"You pity her, Mikaela?" asked Jezebel in surprise.

"No of coarse not! She wishes to steal my Cain from me. And she spurns Alexis so. But still… such a fate for such a pretty girl… it's almost unfair."

"Almost," Riff muttered, "that girl says she's a friend to the poor, but what does she really do? Makes it worse! Just because she gives them food from time to time-"

"You have not seen her," interrupted Ida, almost angrily, "she visits them almost religiously, she takes it personally upon herself to sort out any issues." She glanced at Alexis, and forced a smile. "Which is why she is needed for Delilah. Her contacts would be incredibly helpful to us."

"That and the fact that she can talk to little beasties," snarled Rifael.

"Play nice, children," said Alexis softly, "play nice." He smiled, his eyes closed, leaning his head back. "It'll only be a matter of time before she joins us, our family. One way or another…"

"So how do you plan on getting so close to her?" asked Mikaela, curiously, sitting up, "you'd need a lot of trust before-"

Alexis was shaking his head. "Don't you worry your pretty little head, all you must do is concentrate on growing up and ensnaring Cain for yourself. Leave this to me."

"How will you do it, card master?" Jezebel asked, "you know full well the Sedgewell girl is a hard one to break as it is… to break her so fully someone would have to become very close to her, and that is hardly the easiest thing in the world."

"My my, you have thought this through," muttered Rifael, "people should not know so much about their enemies."

"That is where you are wrong," sighed Alexis, opening an eye, looking up at his newly awakened recruit, "one must know one's enemies better than one's friends. And you must never underestimate them… it is better to overestimate their power and be pleasantly surprise then be so unprepared."

He looked towards the silver haired figure of Jezebel by his feet.

"You shall see in due coarse, my dear Jezebel, after all, to break someone… you must start at the heart."

Jezebel's own heart thudded. Could it be that Alexis planned on… no… he would not dare…

Would he?


	10. Is it So Obvious?

A/N: thank you ryderion :) appreciate the review early update for it ;)

9. Is it So Obvious?

Two days later, Dylan had walked out of the house, telling her family she would be in London visiting friends. Refusing to give any more detail, she hailed a cab, and left too quickly for Alfred to complain.

By mid day, she was amongst her friends again, dressed in loose canvas trousers, ex-white loose shirt, working shoes and a flat cap, tilted out of her face. Sitting on a crate, she was surrounded the children of the area, a five year old boy sitting on her lap who kept tugging on the hair that spilled from her cap.

Sitting with her little brothers and sisters, laughing and joking with them under the watchful eyes of the adults, Dylan realised how much she loved coming down to visit them all.

Yet she knew it could not always be like this. The only way to escape her class and expectations was to die, and she was hardly suicide. Even then, she would no longer be able to help her people.

"Dylan!" came an almost high pitched voice, "Dylan!"

She glanced up, "sorry, honey," she smiled at a little girl called Sarah, "I wuz jus' thinkin' abow' summin'."

"Wha'?" asked Fred, an eleven year old boy, a black boy who had run away from being a servant. He had been adopted quite readily by Georgie's mother.

"No' much," she shrugged, "i's jus' bein' a pain in the arse bein' a girl in ma position a' the mo."

"Why's tha'?"

"Yeah, can' you jus' sor' 'em ow'?"

The children did not quite understand what she had meant. As far was they were concerned, Dylan was Queen and no one could tell her what to do. Amongst them, males and females were more or less equal. It was hardly uncommon with them for a woman to be bossing her husband around, or finding a couple discussing what to do rather than the father simply deciding for them.

"I's jus' coz o' the fac' tha' they think I need ter ge' married."

"EEEWWW!" complained all the children, making faces at each other.

"Dylan can' ge' married!" complained the boy in her lap, "tha's jus' weird."

"I's yucky," grumbled Georgie, crossing her arms. Around her there were several nods and mumbles of agreement.

Chuckling Dylan grinned lopsidedly. "I never said I wuz gonna ge' married, ya pilloks," she told them, crossing her arms, "I jus' said they think I need ter."

"Yer'll 'ave ter ge' married one day," pointed out Katie, walking over, coming to sit with them.

"Dylan won' ge' married!" protested Georgie, "jus' like me!"

"An' me!"

"An' me!"

Several of the girls were all agreeing, looking pleased with the idea that they were just like their favourite person.

"Okok… jeez… enough wi' the marriage talk… there's too much of i' aroun' a' the momen'," Dylan rolled her eyes.

Again Cain's image flashed in the back of her mind. It took all her self control not to scowl. She turned her attention back to her little imps.

"All righ' folks, tell me, 'as anythin' in'erestin' 'appen recen'ly?" she asked.

There was a mass of noise as they all started speaking at the same time. Dylan and Katie glanced at each other and simultaneously covered their ears, calling for quiet.

"One a' a time, kiddies!" complained Katie, "Dylan c'n on'y understand one thin' a' a time yer know, she ain' go' super-'uman powers."

Dylan looked at her sideways, catching her friend's wink. The red head knew of the young woman's capability to speak with animals.

"There is somethin' weird actually," came the happy voice of Piper Smith, all attention turned towards her, "there bin this man, one of the uppa class lo'. 'e's always looked kinda sad abow' us, bu' 'e wuz always wi' a group o' people. Bu' more recen'ly 'e's bin comin' on 'is own an' payin' too much fer things! 'e caught Tommy 'ere pick pocketing him, bu' 'e neva did anythin' abow' i', 'e gave us money fer sweets then wen' and go' stuff offa ma mam!"

Katie frowned as she heard the tale, but said nothing. All the children were discussing this kind stranger, nodding and smiling in agreement with one another. Each had a story to tell about him, all were good; how he stopped the younger children being bullied, buying useless things in bulk, and just generally being generous.

"'Ow do you guy know tha' i's the same guy?" asked Dylan sceptically, crossing her arms, an eye brow raised.

"Well 'e's always dressed in a sui', like black or brown or summa'," said Fred, musingly.

"Yeah, an' 'e's go' light brown 'air… like… real ligh'," nodded Georgie.

"An' black black eyes," called Tommy, "bu' they ain' scary or nuffin."

"'e's go' an accen too," Piper spoke again, "kinda frenchy, no' proper English snob."

By now Dylan was grinning. "'ow long 'as 'e bin doin' this?" she asked.

"Few months, bu' i' were more recen'ly tha' 'e's bin more generous," explained Fred easily, "'e's a good guy, Dylan, 'e talks to uz proper as well."

"I think I know 'oo 'e is," she murmered to herself, "all righ' kiddies! Ge' outta 'ere, I got other business ter attend to."

"Ooohh!" came a collective moan of annoyance from the surrounding children.

"I'll come back soon," Dylan promised, placing the boy in her lap on the floor, standing up, "I promise!"

The children cheered and dispersed to play their own games or go back to their own parents.

A few of the adults came foreward to greet the little Queen; to ask for help, speak to her or just to simply be near her. Dylan felt needed and loved, the look of respect and kindess from each other those adults settled deep in Dylan heart. She was indeed at peace.

Not long after, Katie and Dylan were left alone, the pair walking back towards Katie's little flat for a little something to eat.

Dylan was in her own world as she walked back, hands stand behind her head, gazing up at the blue sky. It had been a while since the weather had been so clear.

"I don' trus' i'm," Katie said suddenly.

"Wha'?" Dylan looked at her.

They had arrived at her door. She had laid a hand on the door handle, but she made no move to go in. She was staring at something in the distance, her pale blue eyes were almost angry, but most deffinetly subdued by… something.

"The man tha' keeps showin' up an' givin' ow' money, I don' lark 'im… I don' trus' 'im." She pushed the door open, and walked in, Dylan following her, looking confused.

Similarly to Lucus' room, there was a room of beds and another for a kitchen, all of which housed two families. One of a mother, father and four children, the other of Katie and her own husband. The father of the other family and Katie's husband, James, were cousins, which was why the two families lived together.

Sitting on James and Katie's bed, Dylan waited for Katie to come back in with a warm cup of tea and few biscuits.

"Why don' yer trus' 'im? 'As 'e dun anythin' ter show 'e's untrus'worthy?" Dylan asked.

Katie frowned. "Why do yer care so much?"

Dylan hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "'E's the on'y sui'er of mine tha' seemed 'alf way decen'. 'E trea'ed me like a person… yer know?"

The woman opposite her shook her head, sighing. "I don'," Katie smiled sadly, "bu' then again… I godda choose ma 'usban', I never 'ad ter pu' up wi' people sayin' 'oh 'e migh' be good' and tha'."

"I envy you," Dylan told Katie truthfully.

"This is besides the poin'," chuckled Katie, taking a sip of her own tea, as Dylan nibbled on the biscuit, "I'm jus' sayin' I don' trus' 'im… there's summat in 'is eyes…"

Dylan laughed. "Yer bein' too cautious. Live a li'l, Ka'e! I's fun!"

An eye brow was raised. "Dylan listen to yerself… yer ge'in' carried away. This is unlark you…" she looked at her sideways, "wha's 'appened? Did you argue wi' tha' earl bloke?"

"Cain?! Wha's 'e godda do wi' this?"

Katie suddenly looked smug. "So there is sum-"

"No, Katie… there isn'," Dylan insisted stoneily, "all righ', I'll be cautious of John the frenchie boy, I promise." Katie's smirk was growing ever more mischievous. "An' there's nuffin wi' the 'Argreaves boy!"

"All righ', all righ', keep yer'air on…" muttered Katie, still looking irritatingly knowing.

Dylan sighed and rolled her eyes. But she did not want to argue with a smug Katie.

That same day, Dylan made it a point to leave Katie a little earlier than usual. It was great to be able to talk with the kids, chat with the adults and catch up with Katie, but this was something she had to do.

It had been weeks since she had visited Lisa, and she missed the little girl. Though she dead being beside her grave reminded Dylan that the girl had existed and they had fun together when she had been alive. The visiting of Lisa's grave was Dylan's physical way of keeping those memories alive. The same way she visited her mother and grandmother.

Still dressed as a boy, the flat cap pulled low over her eyes, she walked with a slight swagger in her step. She grinned and nodded at several people she recognised as she went, even meeting Toby, an ex-friend to Lucus and one of Big Kev's boys.

And yet surprises even then seemed to be happening.

"Hello, Dyl," came a happy almost jaunty tone.

Almost jumping out of her skin, she looked up to see the grinning face of Oscar.

"Wha'- hey Oscar!" she beamed at him, but stopped herself from hugging him. It was all well and good when she looked female, but if she looked male, that was another matter entirely. She put her hand out which he shook warmly, "whacha doin' 'ere?"

"Just out for a walk, you know the deal, get sick of the snobs," he rolled his eyes, "and I had to take part in one of Cain's plots last night. And trust me that was no one. Stalking people is really boring, especially upper class women with protective husbands that you're gonna set up."

Dylan couldn't help but laugh. "I don' think I wanna know the plan actually," she told him.

"Where you off to?" asked Oscar good naturally, "I'll join you. I haven't caught up with you without master Hargreaves looking like a vulture for a while."

"It's kinda depressin'… I'm gonna visi' my god daughter's grave," Dylan explained, her smile fading.

Oscar shrugged. "In that case, I insist on escorting you. That's not a journey you should go on alone. Whether male or female," he winked at her, and gestured for them to carry on walking.

The two talked as they walked, not about the upper class or hierarchy, just talked. About books, bit of politics and strangely, music. The two ended up admitted to each other that they thoroughly enjoyed the black's singing voices and wandered how they managed to hit such perfect pitch without fail (segregation was still a major issue of the time, but there were deffinetly blacks, indians etcetc around in the victorian era).

"By the way, Oscar, how'd'ya know i' wuz me?"

"I can spot you a mile off… so can anyone else who pays attention. You're not a common girl. Mary's the same," he smiled to himself, then snapped to attention.

"Bu'… I'm dress' lark this, an' my accen's all changed and shi'," Dylan was severely confused.

"I put things together. I speak to people a lot, listen to conversations, adding things up and…" he looked shifty, "I talked to Crehador. I was a bit suspicious to be honest."

"Ahhh…" understanding broke out on her face, "so i' wuz you 'oo suspec'ed Riff."

Oscar blushed and nodded, looking a strange combination between proud and embarrassed. A moment later, her expression cleared, he looked almost serious.

"You and Cain…" he said slowly.

"Yeah?"

"Were you… you were arguing weren't you?"

She shrugged non-commitedly.

"Why?"

"It wuz nuffin. Jus' a disagreemen'."

"What about?"

"He seemed ter think that I was lark any otha girl and tried ter make me blush wi' a kiss."

Grinning Oscar shook his head. "That really sounds like him," his grin suddenly vanished, "by the way Dylan… you can't get away with that excuse with me… I can ready people." He winked. "C'mon, what did my illustrious friend do?"

"Ooooo big words," DYlan rolled her eyes.

"What did he do?"

"You're persistan'."

He just raised an eyebrow.

"He… he got nosey," she sighed, "star'ed lookin' inter my pas' too much. I don' like i'. I's like… i's my life… 'e 'as no righ' ter go lookin' inter my pas', or even my family's… tha's my area of exper'ees."

It was Oscar's time to sigh. "It honestly just shows he cares-"

"No' the way 'e did i'," she growled, "'e wuz jus' bein' irrita'in."

He shook his head. "You're stubborn… both of you. I swear to you, he just cares, he wants to make sure your safe. He cares about you."

"I don' like it."

"I give up! The two of you can sort it out you're self," he grinned at her and put a friendly arm around her shoulder's for amount. Anyone looking on would have thought it was two males, a boy and a man, talking. "C'mon, lets go see your god daughter. What's her name?"

Dylan stared up at him, chuckling as he tapped the cap further over her eyes. She was glad she had gotton on so well with the ostracised baron.

It was that evening when Oscar went to visit the earl in question. Though it was admittedly to update him with the plan for Crehador to woo Jolene the jealous hench man's wife.

Even after Crehador had briefly explained he had managed to trick Jolene into meeting up with him again, Oscar was still complaining.

"Why did I have to be the stalker?" he moaned, "I always get the boring jobs. Besides… I reckon she could have scratched my eyes out!"

"You could hardly have been the mysterious rich lover," Crehador replied as Cain gazed out the window.

"Why not?!"

"You'd grin at her and scare her," Crehador said simply, taking a sip of whiskey from his glass.

Oscar scowled, lighting a cigarette in his contempt. He glanced over at Cain who appeared to be lost in thought, then at Crehador, Dylan's childhood friend. It was as Oscar looked at him did Crehador speak.

"Have either of you heard any gossip recently? About well… a mutual friend of ours."

"You listen to gossip," sighed Cain, looking over at Crehador, bored.

"Of coarse. Helpful for business as a medium really. And easy to keep track of a few of my contacts and friends. In this case, Dylan."

"Get to the point, Crehador," growled Cain.

"Actually I saw her today," grinned Oscar, "as her other self admittedly. Visiting her God daughter."

Cain looked up at him sharply and looked away again.

"That wasn't quite what I meant," Crehador sighed, "Dylan Sedgewell is engaged."

Both Oscar and Crehador had their eyes trained on Cain. They saw the exact moment when his body stiffened and his hand tightened harder and harder around the clear glass.

"Who to?" asked Oscar interestedly, "marriage prospects didn't exactly come up in the conversation."

"A french noble, Jean Malfoy, inheritor to the Malfoy name and estates. Which is quite a lot from what I remember."

"Forgot you were a french noble," mumbled Oscar quietly.

"It's only been said that they might be," Crehador continued, "in other words, it's been proposed and one party or both have yet to reach a decision. Normally I would have said that this guy has no chance… but the family's pushing it, and Dylan seems to like him. They've been seen together since the rumours started."

Cain still said nothing. Finally he looked at them. "What does this have to do with Garu or Gloria?"

"Nothing," Crehador shrugged, "just though you would want to know a little something about your sister's best friend."

Cain's eye brows raised. "Excuse me, nature calls," he said stiffly, "I'll be back in a moment."

"Take your time," beamed Oscar, pouring himself a generous amount of whiskey.

As Cain left, Oscar turned towards the medium.

"What was that for exactly?" he demanded.

"I just had a theory I needed to test out," Crehador shrugged, something twinkled mysteriously in his eyes, "and it seems I was right."

"You know… I don't appreciate you experimenting on my friends."

"Drink up baron, this is very little concern of yours."

"Cain is my friend and the brother to the woman I intend to marry and Dylan… Dylan I would say is a friend to. This clearly has something-"

"Dylan, as you very well know, is a friend of mine as well. If I were you, I would not be so judgemental all ready."

Saying nothing, Oscar sipped some of his drink, eyeing the fallen noble curiously. He doubted that Crehador was being malicious, but at the same time, he could almost sense that the motives were hardly all that pure.

Cain on the other hand, by passed the bathroom entirely and made a beeline for the kitchens. Mary was sitting with Louise eating her dinner there instead of in the dining room so as not to involve her with their plans.

"Mary," he said, walking in, looking rather suspicious, "when did you last hear from Dylan?"

"This morning," shrugged Mary, "she wrote to me. Why?"

Cain pressed his lips together, then let out a sigh. "I have recently heard a rumour that she is engaged."

Mary's eyes widened, but she said nothing.

"Is she?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Then why the look of horror?"

But she still refused to say anything.

"Mary please," Cain begged, sitting down, "at the moment I worried about any man that shows interest in her. Her family have a history with our father… I'm worried her father maybe have joined Delilah. This man… he too might be one of them. I'm worried for her safety. I couldn't- I wouldn't want anything to happen to her."

Mary sighed. "She's not engaged," she admitted finally, "but this Jean guy… she seems to like him a lot. That's all there is to it."

But from the look in her eyes, he knew there was quite a bit that Mary was hiding from him. Cain refused to peruse it. He would hardly force his little sister to break the confidence of her best friend.

"Thanks Mary," he smiled at her, kissing her forehead, "I just… I want her to be safe."

"I know," she smiled.

With that Cain left to rejoin his comrades and friends.

Louise stared after him. "Why can't he admit that he's in love with the girl and be done with it?" she sighed angrily.

"Because… he's Cain," shrugged Mary.

Louise shook her head. "Finish that up miss, or else there'll be no ice cream for you."

Cain managed to catch Oscar and Crehador just as they were letting themselves out.

"Crehador!" he called, walking over towards the door.

Crehador turned to Oscar, "you going back into London?"

"Yeah," the baron nodded.

"Mind if I share a carriage."

Surprised but strangely honoured, Oscar smiled. "Welcome to."

"Thanks. I'll catch up in a moment."

Nodding, Oscar left telling the stable boy to organise their carriage.

"Crehador," repeated Cain, finally arriving in front of his associate, "would it be possible for you to do me a favour. I would ask Oscar, but this involves the utmost discretion."

"What is it?"

"Could you look up Jean Malfoy… and Lord Malfoy as well to be on the safe side. I just want to make sure they're clean. I don't trust them. Not yet anyway."

"All ready there. I've started some research on him, so far there's been nothing, but it's only been days," Crehador shrugged, "we'll see."

Cain frowned. "Why would you look him up?"

Crehador's face became the personification of thunder. His eyes lit with flames of anger, his forehead creased in furrows and his mouth tightened into a harsh line.

"You are not the only one that cares for Dylan," snapped Crehador, "she has others who are loyal to her and love her dearly."

Cain was taken a back, but his composure was quickly recovered and the full effect of Creahdor's words took hold.

"I don't care for her," he said shortly, "it's Mary I'm worried about. Besides, there's a connection with Delilah and this family, I'm curious."

Crehador just shook his head appearing to be very unimpressed. "Of coarse, my lord, good evening, we will meet again soon."

Without another word, Crehador left, joining Oscar in his carriage leaving Cain to his own thoughts.

"Why is it so obvious?" he grumbled to himself, shutting the door behind him.


	11. Friends and Enemies

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

10. Friends and Enemies

It was a fortnight later.

Jolene had come to believe that Crehador was the lord who would sweep her off her feet and away from her oppressive husband. Garu was about to become aware of Jonlene's affair, only to think it was with Mayor Gloria. And Mayor Gloria was waiting for that night to meet with the beautiful ebony haired mute woman (in other words, Cain).

Cain was almost looking foreword to the evening events. Yet at the same time, his mind was in turmoil about the so-called 'suitor' of Dylan's. His name ran a bell with a sinister ring.

Jean Malfoy.

Not a common surname, but common enough. The Lord was not all that well known to the english, but he had made a name for himself and his family off his own back. His son seemed to share a similar amount of ambition. So why was he so apprehensive about the family?

Simply because they wanted to take Dylan from hi-? He stopped himself. That was going to far. He could hardly let himself even think such a things.

Besides… Dylan was her own woman. What she did in life was by her choice.

He finally understood what Mary meant when she said that Dylan would be a free woman no matter what. Though bound by the chains of the upper class, she had been given some room to breath because of her nature.

Lost in thought, Cain found himself standing outside Carlie's tea shop. He smiled to himself as his stomach grumbled for food.

He hadn't been back since first being reunited with Dylan the first time round. As he remembered the heavenly experience of the cakes made here, his stomach growled at him louder. That made his mind up. Even though it would admittedly look strange for a noble to enter such a shop, that didn't stop him.

He stepped inside and was immediately hit again with the sound of domestic friendliness. People were talking to each other, over and across tables, call greetings. There were still young couples getting better aquatinted over the sumptuous cakes and delicious tea and coffee. Children pestered the shop keepers for free tastes of this and that.

Sighing heavily to himself, Cain found himself feeling strangely at home. It had been a long time since anything of the sort had taken place with he and Mary since Riff had left. And then since Dylan had.

"'Ello milord," came a booming voice, as Cain found himself with a strong arm about his shoulders.

He looked up at the beaming face of Carlie.

"I's nice ter see ya 'ere again!"

"I would have come back earlier," Cain grinned, removing his hat, "but… well, business you know."

"Of coarse," she winked, "c'mon," she lead him to a table, "what'll it be. Coffee again?"

"Please," he nodded, sitting down, "and… well… if you don't mind, could you just choose two or three pieces of cake for me? Miss Elsie's talent is undeniable, I'd like to taste more."

Carlie laughed. "Tha' is mos' cer'ainly understandable, milord."

"If you don't mind…" he said, glancing around, as several people glanced around at the comment. He was clearly from the upper class and it made him nervous in such a place when it was made worse by the title, "could you just call me Cain?"

Carlie grinned. "I wasn' sure if I wuz allowed, master Cain."

Opening his mouth to object, Cain then changed his mind. Master Cain was hardly that bad, though it was a little derogatory than simply being called 'Cain'. It seemed to almost be a term of endearment coming from Carlie.

"Thanks Carlie," he said instead.

She just beamed at him and walked away.

Cain fished out a small book from his jacket pocket, and continued reading it. He knew no one there, and he hardly wished to make small talk with them for fear of making them feel inferior in some way. This way, they could continue normally and he could eat there in peace.

Or so he hoped.

The door opened again and this time the shop became a little quieter. As he looked around he could see them all looking towards the same place. As such he too turned to look as well.

Dylan had walked in and was grinning around at them. They all seemed to take it as a sign to go back to what ever they were doing and the loud sound levels returned.

Somehow Cain did not think that if the really Queen of England turned up in the tea shop anyone would bat an eye lid. However Dylan was a special case. She really did care.

He found himself staring at her, angry with her for not wanting to stay with him. Angrier with himself for not being as stubborn as she.

As she walked over towards the counter, calling a greeting to Carlie, she appeared to feel his eye following her. She turned, frowning to herself, then her already large (currently green) eyes widened.

Instead of reacting in any form of friendliness, Cain raised an eyebrow and turned away from her, damning his pride from stopping his from walking over and speaking to her properly. He wandered how it was that pride seemed to win over everything else in his life.

Dylan herself was shocked to see Cain present. She had not expected to see him so soon. Strangely, she was glad to see that he was well, but at the same time angry that he came to where _she _felt comfortable. It was almost as though he was intruding on her patch.

She turned away from him, haughtily and leaned on the counter, feeling strange in her long dress. Excluding the one time she brought Cain with her to the tea shop, she always came dressed as a boy. Now she was alone in a dress, she felt strangely out of place. At the same time, everyone in there paid her some form of honest respect even though she clearly was dressed as a noble woman.

"'Ello luv," beamed Carlie, walking over to her, "what c'n I do yer for?"

"Tea and… cheesecake please? Chocola'e kind. They're Elsie's best!"

"Thank you!" came the faint voice of Elsie from the back.

Dylan giggled a little.

"I take i' yer no' stayin' long," Carlie nodded at the fact that Dylan was staying by the counter.

She shook her head. "I need ter ge' goin', father came wi' me this time." She rolled her eyes. "e's bin keepin' a closa eye on me than usual at the mo', even ma's ge'in annoyed."

Carlie passed her the tea with a sympathetic smile. "Don' worry, yer'll be fine. I'm jus surprised coz o' yer li'l friend over there."

Scowling into her tea, Dylan said nothing.

"Oh hoho," Carlie seemed to be very pleased with herself, "lover's tiff eh?"

"Wha- no way!" Dylan snapped, "yer gotta be kiddin' me! Why the bloody 'ell does everyone think there's summa' goin' on be'tween me an' the earl?!"

Carlie just looked smug, passing the box of cake towards her friend. "No reason… the of yer jus' seemed so cozy no' long ago."

Finishing her tea with her eyes narrowed at the older woman, Dylan passed her the cup and fished around in her bag for her purse.

"This should cover i'," she said, putting the money into Carlie's open hand, "and wha' I owe yer from before." She winked happily, then called towards the back, "thanks Elsie!"

"Any time!" came the tinny voice in reply.

"Chatcha later," winked Dylan as she turned to leave.

"Soon I 'ope," grinned Carlie.

Cain caught the sight of Dylan leaving out of the corner of his eye. Suddenly his pride took a back stead, he did not want her walking out of his life again with out saying nothing to her. It simply felt wrong!

Scraping the chair as he stood up, he called to Carlie he would be back in a moment. He dashed through the doors, catching Dylan's arm before she could move any further from him.

She did not turn to look at him, but she stood perfectly still.

"Good afternoon, my lord," she said simply.

"Dylan please," Cain sighed, standing in front of her, looking down into her eyes that seemed to be avoid his gaze, "don't do this… it's wrong…"

"What is my lord?"

"Look- I… I miss you. This is worse than when I didn't see you for months on end. At least then I had the hope that when I saw you again the two of us would get on… now… when I see you- all you seem to do is avoid me. I hate this… and you do to."

She finally looked at him, only there was green fire where her irises should have been. "This is only to make up for what you di-"

"No it's not!" he snapped, "I don't care about that any more- and you don't either. I just want you back…" he reached out and took her hand. "I honestly just want you back in my life. As… as…" he paused, she looked at him curiously. "As my friend."

He knew all to well that anything else just then would have been impossible. She was adamant that it would never work. Even so, he would have given anything just to have her in his life, no matter what form it took.

She smiled, her eyes softened into more pastel colours. "Good…" her hands tightened on his own. "It was too strange for me too… I… I miss you too. Strange at that may seem coming this ice queen," she winked as Cain looked abashed, "I truly did."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm glad."

The next moment there was the sound of the cardboard box hitting the ground and her smokey rose scent overwhelmed his sense as her arms enclosed about his neck and she hugged him close. Happily he encased her waist in an embrace of his own, his cheek resting against the black of her hair, eyes gently closed. This feeling… this close feeling… he had missed it more than words could describe.

Suddenly he remembered what Crehador had told him. Dylan's possible fiancé. He pulled away from her, feeling strangely wrong.

"Dylan…" he started.

"Cain," she smiled, her hands resting on his shoulders, head to one side. She was studying him closely again.

Cain wandered for a moment if he was still the only one to know that her quirk of her head to one side was when she was trying to figure something out. He shook his head mentally.

"I was just wandering how your fiancé was doing."

Dylan frowned and dropped her hands. "Fiancé?"

"Yes… the french noble…"

Her frown deepened. "Where did you hear this?"

"It's gossip," he stated, suddenly becoming a little angrier, "why? Didn't you want me to find out?"

"Well he's hardly my fiancé," she snapped angrily, "at the moment he's my friend."

"At the moment?"

She blushed a little. "His father put foreword a proposal," she told him, not meeting his eye, "but neither of us will agree until we get to know each other better. So now… we're friends."

"But you're considering it."

"No!" she snapped, outraged, then looked away again, "not really…"

"You are!" Cain's eyes bulged, "what happened to you don't want to get married? You don't want to be tied to a man-"

"That's still my wish!" she hissed at him, "but it doesn't mean I can have it. We all have things that can never happen… this is the nineteenth century… Who's going to let a woman out on their own. Let alone one like me! My father would die before he let that happen."

"But this guy? Why him?!"

"Because he kind, and sweet and… and…" she could not think of what else to say.

"And?" Cain demanded, she looked away again. He grabbed her hands and force her to look at him. "I don't trust him."

"What…?" she met his gaze.

"I don't trust him. The name rings a bell, Malfoy… there's something not right here and I-"

"You've been looking things up again haven't you?" she asked.

"Not exactly-"

"Not exactly?! Bollocks! You've gone and done more research. For the last Goddamned time, earl! Lay off! This is my life! I'll do what the hell I want with it!"

"For God's sake listen to me you stubborn woman!" he snapped back, "I'm just trying to look out for you! It's the only reason I'd go through the trouble of looking stuff up! And how can you blame me? Your parents were closely linked with fa-" he stopped himself short.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"I thought I told you to-"

"This has nothing to do with your family."

"So why bring my parents up?"

"Because they seem to be members of Delilah."

Her face paled for a moment. In that moment she looked incredibly vulnerable, almost sick. Cain took a step towards her, worry she may do the incredibly girly thing of fainting. It did not seem like Dylan to do such a thing.

The next her colour was back and so was the fire.

"I told you this before, but you don't seem to listen… stop meddling in my life and leave me alone."

She snatched her hand away from Cain's grip. She picked up her box and tried to leave, but again Cain grabbed her arm.

She stopped but did not look back at him.

"Let me go now or I'll hurt you."

"No," he said quietly, "if I let you go now I'll-"

"I never want to see you again," she interrupted him.

"What?" in his surprise he let her go.

"I never want to see you again. I never want to hear from you again… I never even want to hear of you again!" she looked back at him, her anger unadulterated. "I don't need you in my life. I've dealt fine with what happens to be a long time before he came crashing into my world… now I want you to leave it and never come back. I hate you… do you understand that earl? I hate you."

"You can't," he said slowly, "you can't, I-"

"I hate you and I always will!" without another word she left Cain standing in the middle of the street looking perplexed.

But not before Cain had caught sight of a single tear falling down her cheek. He suddenly felt thoroughly lost and alone. He thought since Riff had left he would never find anyone to become so close to him. Now he had, he had lost them again.

"You can't," he said softly, "you can't… I love you…"

He shook his head, and walked back into the shop dejectedly, where he was greeted by the comforting arm of Carlie and a piece of Elsie's exquisite cake.

That evening Cain looked over the bloody scene of the death of Garu, Jolene and Mayor Gloria, clapping his dreadful prologue of the bloody death's to come. His blood lust for that of Riffael's and his father was clear to see. But there was a certain amount of hurt there that still hadn't been addressed.

Crehador touched Cain's shoulder as his look became glassy, eyes still upon the carnage.

"Earl," he stated.

"Yes Crehador?"

"I have some information on Jean Malfoy for-"

"Leave it," he said coldly, turning away from the bodies, "it has little to do with us."

"But earl it's im-"

"I said leave it!" snapped Cain angrily, "Dylan does not wish for us to intervene, therefore I will not… and neither should you."

"Cain," Crehador was becoming impatient, "under normal circumstances I would agree, but this time-"

"Crehador," interrupted Cain, "I said I do not wish to know and I told you Dylan would not want us interfering, therefore we will do no such thing!"

"Oh for God's sake!" growled Crehador, "all right, I'll leave it. But I actually thought you might care for the girl. You know what she's like! She can't show such deep emotion properly! She loves Mary and she holds her at arms length, even if she is affectionate. She keeps so many secrets from everyone. You think a girl like that can be utterly normal?! She likes you Cain, for the life of me I don't know why. But she does-"

"She wants us to do nothing!"

"Fine, if you won't do anything about Malfoy, then I will."

He turned and left Cain alone to his thoughts, fuming. Now he would have to do things on his own. Crehador had been certain he could have relied on Cain's feelings for his friend to help him stop her from making the biggest mistake of her short life. Unfortunately, it appeared that Dylan had put him off somehow… again her power over people almost scared him a little.

Cain himself waited a few moments, his back turned from his directed scene. Then he too left. Crehador's words echoing in his mind.

What had he meant? Was Jean Malfoy so awful? Or was it a simple hunch?

Outside Oscar was waiting for Cain. His mobile face displayed visible worry. Cain climbed into the carriage wordlessly and Oscar followed him in.

"Cain what happened?" he asked seriously.

"Nothing," he replied shortly.

"But Crehador-"

"I said nothing," Cain snapped.

Oscar raised his eyebrows. "It was about the information he found out wasn't it? About the Malfoy family."

"What?" now Cain was surprised, "you know too?"

"I helped him find out… and I had a hunch. Look, I'll explain it later, but the Malfoy's are a shady lot. They're an old family, but their power seems to have risen in recent years and it's a little worrying as to how…"

"You don't-" but Oscar was nodding.

"I'll give you the details when we get somewhere safer, but Cain… if Dylan continues to see this man… she could be putting herself into serious danger…" he trailed off seeing Cain's sceptical face, "more serious danger than usual."

Cain grinned for a moment. He was glad both Crehador and Oscar were well aware of what sort of person Dylan was.

The grin disappeared after about a minute.

"We have to tell her… warn her!" he paused, calming himself down, "but she is refusing to see me at the moment… she says she never wants to see me again… never even wants to hear of me."

"I'm sure she's just being dramatic," Oscar rolled his eyes, "Mary's the…" he trailed off, "same…" a look over understanding graced his face. "Mary! That's it!"

"Oh no- we are not putting Mary in any danger-"

"No no no!" Oscar was becoming excitable, practically jumping up and down in his seat, "Mary and Dylan are very close friends… like sisters! We'll tell Mary what's going on and then she can organise for them to meet up-"

"And we tell her then?"

Oscar nodded excitedly.

Cain grinned, mirthlessly, "you know… I think this time you've got a pretty good plan."

"Had to happen sometime," winked Oscar.


	12. Clashes

11. Clashes

It was not long later that Dylan and Jean met up with one another. Having organised to go into town, Jean came to the house to pick Dylan up. All the while both Albert and Alfred watch the proceedings likes hawks. Though while Alfred was far more threatening, it seemed Bert was rather happy for the two. It was important for Dylan to know that.

Alfred said nothing the entire time, and even watched the carriage leave down the dive way.

"What's wrong dad?" Bert asked good naturedly, "Jean's a good guy."

"If they approve the match, it'll be a strong one for both families," admitted Alfred, "somehow I still worry." He looked back at his son. "I worry for all of you."

He laid a heavy hand on Bert's shoulder, before re-entering the house. Bert himself frowned, following his father inside. Lately, Alfred seemed to draw into himself more and more, communicating far less with his family when at home. Yet in public nothing had changed.

The stirring had begun within the Sedgewell household.

In the carriage Dylan gazed out with window at the passing scenery, a small smile on her face. She could feel Jean's eyes on her, but said nothing for a while. Then finally:

"Do I have something on my face?"

Startled Jean jumped. "Sorry?"

"My face? Is there something on it?"

"No! Why?"

She turned to look at him and smirked. "You've been staring at me for a good fifteen minutes now. I was wandering when you would tell me I have paint on my face or something."

"Why paint…?" he asked slowly.

Dylan rolled her eyes. "Michael Angelo has been re-encarnated without our household. He takes the form of Jonny my baby brother."

Jean laughed, "I hope he nurses the talent, it'll be an interesting past time."

"Really? I'm sort of hoping he'll give up on it soon… I'm the one who has to supervise him then bathe him."

"Don't the maids do that?" Jean was confused.

"Coarse not. He's my brother, I'll look after him, they're hired to clean up the rooms, not the kids. That became my job after Charmaine turned about three."

"How old were you?"

"Six… there abouts."

Jean frowned.

"They didn't make me, I just became protective, I didn't like it when they touched her and I insisted on doing it myself. Ever since then, I made it my personal mission."

He smiled at her. "You have a kind heart."

Winking at him slyly she told him, "yeah- but don't let it fool you."

"What does that mean?"

"Talk to Oscar Gabriel, he'd tell you a few things."

The young man openly laughed. "Miss Dylan, you are a woman full of surprises."

Dylan grinned to herself, her focus back out the window again. 'You have no idea matey…' she thought to herself.

Again, the image of the black clad man slipped into her mind again. It took all her effort not to react visibly to it. She forced him out of her thoughts, unable to explain why he was there in the first place.

'I hate you,' she thought viciously, humming to push the image out of her mind with more force, 'I hate you I hate you I hate you!'

"Did you say something?" asked Jean looking confused.

Startled, Dylan looked up and shook her head. "No… but I was humming to myself," she managed to get her face to colour into a blush, glad she had mastered that long before. "Sorry, it's out of habit."

"What were you singing?"

"Just a nursery rhyme."

"Really?"

"Yeah…" she paused then started again, this time singing the words softly, "twinkle twinkle little star, how I wander what you are, up above the world so high… like a diamond in the sky… twinkle twinkle little star, how I wander what you are."

Jean sighed, a soft smile on his face. "Miss Dylan… that song describes you perfectly."

She chuckled to herself. More than he would ever know…

In town, Jean took her to the posh side originally. Unfortunately that also meant she was surrounded by those who knew them both. Where ever they went, whispers followed.

Even though they were not even touching, many people had jumped to the conclusion that they were already married.

Several times Earl Hargreaves' name was mentioned along side her own. Which made her anger towards them even worse, though she was fully aware that it was her own fault. That was what she got for trying to make life easier for herself. And to some extend, his life too.

"Let's go," Jean said finally, "this place irritates me."

"Thank you!" she replied hoarsely, "I thought you'd never ask!"

Quickly finding a cab the two made their way to regents park. At about mid day there were rarely too many people there. Which meant the two were allowed to talk without too much scrutiny.

"What I would not give to be one of the working class," Jean said tiredly as the two sat on a bench, Dylan carelessly feeding the pigeons with the rest of a waffle Jean had bought her.

"That's odd… I never thought I'd hear one such as your self saying that," she said mildly.

"They might not have the luxury and the opportunities like we do. But they have freedom… the freedom to choose and live how they want… when they want! They don't have people watching their every move and discussing it."

"The money issue doesn't help."

"They never seem to let it get to them. And their women are often stronger than their men… their…" he blushed but continued, "their marriages are true partnerships."

"Not always," Dylan said quietly.

"Sorry?"

"Are you sure?" she said quite a bit louder.

"Quite sure. I don't entirely shun my servants you know."

She smiled at him. He smiled back.

"You're really not like how I imagined a French lord," she told him.

"You're nothing like a lady in general," he shrugged, "we're even I would say."

"Mmm…" she paused thoughtfully for a moment, "meh- so so."

It was that moment she caught sight of a pair out of the corner of her eye. She gasped and spun round to make sure she was not making it up. Sure enough there they were. Cain Hargreaves with his little sister and her best friend.

"Mary!" she squealed childishly, waving her over.

"Dylan?!" the surprised voice answered her and a moment or two later the two girls were hugging each other and talking very rapidly at the same time.

Meanwhile, Jean and Cain watched the two girls and each other rather uncomfortably. Each for very different reasons.

Dylan suddenly noticed that there were in fact two other people in the vicinity, she looked up towards Cain, who was staring at her, his eyes hard. Yet to her own surprise she could not meet his gaze. Something within her seemed to hurt if she even set eyes on him in person.

"Sorry," she said straightening up, "Jean Malfoy this is Earl Cain Hargreaves. Cain Hargreaves, this is Jean Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy estates in France…" she paused, "and some other stuff I don't know what- hierarchy confuses me. Anyway- Mary! You silly child I haven't heard from you in a week! What happened to I'll write everyday-"

And the two girls were off talking again so rapidly neither of the males could keep up.

Not that either would have the guts to attempt to listen in. Dylan was well known for being dangerous, but Mary was a child and a formidable opponent.

Cain and Jean glanced at each other, sizing one another up. Oscar had yet to give Cain the details considering he himself was not entirely sure of them, though that day would be when he would have confirmation and so would Crehador.

Crehador had been rather surprised when Cain admitted that he wanted to help, that he realised it was Dylan's pride and traumatising up bringing (however self induced) that lead her to be so harsh. Though it hardly lessened the pain of hearing that she hated him.

"Cain Hargreaves," Jean started, "I've heard of you. The Hargreaves name is known across the channel."

"Really? How is that?"

"You have a large family, Earl Hargreaves, a line strong in males too I have noticed. But more than that, such powerful names do extend across at least Europe. Your father I believe was one of the more famous Hargreaves. When he was alive, God rest his soul."

Cain stiffened but said nothing on that comment. "I must say, sir, I have heard of you as well, though the name Malfoy is hardly quite formidable as my own, your father is a celebrity in his own right. An amazing feat to pull a fallen noble family to such heights yet again."

The smile upon Jean's face was full of pride. "He is a great man," he agreed.

"Most certainly. Even set you up a wonderful match with the young miss Dylan Sedgewell."

Jean smirked. "It was his idea, but I refuse to go along with such a thing until she agrees, and even then… how would either of us know that I will agree to the arrangement."

In this time the men had come to stand closer together as they spoke. Still sizing each other up. Yet neither Mary or Dylan had taken any notice. Either Dylan was making it a point to ignore them both, or she simply did not care and was focusing all her attention on Mary.

"I'd be surprised if you turned such an offer down," shrugged Cain, "the nigh on legendary Dylan Sedgewell… she could have men jumping up and down for her approval and she'd still tell them the jumps aren't high enough."

Jean snorted. "She hardly across as being so harsh, Hargreaves."

Cain smirked. "In that case, Malfoy, you have a lot to learn about our dearest Dylan."

"You would know?"

He shrugged non-commitedly. "You could say there was once a closeness," he looked sly for a moment, ensuring Jean had seen then look then become far more innocent, "but my sister and young miss Dylan had been friends for years."

Jean looked momentarily surprised, glanced back at Dylan and smiled. "You might be surprised, Dylan can be more… forth coming with those she likes."

Cain scowled. "And what would that be implying?"

"Nothing in particular," shrugged Jean, putting his hands in his pockets, appearing to become more relaxed on seeing his opponent become far more tense. "Simply that miss Dylan is a most beautiful example of a woman whom you do not give enough credit to. Though it is very possible that she has not allowed you to come to know her in… in such a fashion." His smirk had grown, his face almost vicious towards Cain.

Cain himself was shaking in anger. It was clear what Jean was implying. The very fact that he had dared even hint at such a thing caused the younger man's blood to boil. Dylan was not like that… she wasn't!

"What's wrong, Cain?" asked Jean mockingly, "you've become very pin-"

"If you even insinuate such a thing about Dylan again-"

"Dylan? Not miss Dylan? Tell me, _Cain_, how close were the two of you?" No answer. "You see… I almost believe I have taken your place."

Cain opened his mouth to argue, but Jean got there first.

"The strange thing is, ever since I have heard of Dylan, I have heard your name beside it. All the gossips believe the two of you to be… to be courting. And even now, I cannot hear her name without yours… and yet I have the satisfaction of hav-"

He never finished the sentence, Cain's fist made contact with the side of Jean's face.

Stunned, Jean stumbled back, a hand to his face.

"Cain!" gasped Mary, as the two girl jumped to their feet.

Dylan was by Jean's side in an instant, removing his hand to get a better look at his cheek, her body in very close proximity to his. That very act made the insult worse on Cain's behalf.

"What was that for?" snapped Dylan, "that was uncalled for!"

"Brother you know you can't hit people!" Mary scolded, she turned to Jean, "I apologise for him, he is far too stubborn to do so himself. He is under a lot of stress nowadays, but that hardly exonerates him."

Jean shook his head. "It is nothing, miss Mary, I believe I pushed him too far-"

"Like hell you did," snapped Cain, "Dylan pl-"

"Enough!" snapped Dylan, "enough. Stop being so childish. You can't just hit someone because you do not like what they have said."

"But-"

"I said enough," she snarled, "I believe I have had just about as much as I can take. Good day, Earl. Mary," she hugged her friend briefly, "we will catch up properly soon." She turned to Jean. "I am sorry to leave you so abruptly, but I feel I must leave. I will make my own way home." She leaned up on tip toes to his his cheek, but her eyes were trained on Cain the whole time. "We will meet again soon I hope."

"As do I miss Dylan," he said grandly, as she left with a wave.

"I'm afraid we must leave too," said Mary, "it was lovely meeting you, and I do apologise for my brother."

"Not at all, miss Mary, I hope to see the two of you on better terms some time," smiled Jean, bowing at the waist towards the little girl.

"I hope so too."

Taking hold of her brother's hand she lead him away in the opposite direction and out of the park, neither said a word until they had gotten into a carriage.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?!" shouted Mary, "you don't go round punching people because you do not like what they say!"

"You should have heard him," sighed Cain wearily, "what he said about-"

"I know he's dangerous and not to be trusted, but until we have conclusive evidence, there is no way you can loose your temper like that. It is unnecessary and damaging. Look how Dylan reacted!"

He scowled, and gazed out the window instead.

Mary sighed, and pulled herself into her brother's lap, wrapping his arms about her.

"She still likes you," she told him softly, "maybe she loves you too. She at least misses you."

"How can you tell?" asked Cain, tiredly.

"She could not look you in the eyes."

Cain frowned.

"It means it hurts her when she sees you, so you are on her mind. Jean Malfoy seems to be a way of proving to herself that she doesn't need you. But it's not working. She proved that today. Instead of taking sides, she left. She can't face her true feelings for you or entirely fake them for Jean, therefore…"

"She left so she did not have to face either."

"Which if he is involved with Delilah like you think he is was the much safer option."

Cain sighed heavily and placed a kiss on the top of her head. "We'll see, Mary…"

He was yet to be entirely convinced that Dylan was as feeling as everyone said she was. She had yet to show him that side clearly.

After leaving Cain to deal with the mess he had created, Dylan made her way down towards the west end. The back allies were the more shadier part of town and for someone like Dylan, the safer.

As she passed into the shadows she was almost immediately met with anyone from con men to murderers. All tipped their caps in respect towards Dylan, her face was well known to them. Though not necessarily as a friend, she was still not a person to test. None would try anything with her, and if anyone did, there would be several other's to her defence.

Hence why Dylan was safer back here than she ever would have been in the open air with those of the same status as she.

Originally she had meant to only come as an escape from the testosterone of Cain and Jean, after a brief conversation with a rat, who she would rather not see again, Dylan became aware of a beloved friend whom she had not seen in a long while.

She found him standing in the shadows of a street corner, trying to be unnoticeable and failing quite badly. His long hair, suit and glasses made him stand out like a sore thumb, it was his aura of danger that meant many of the pickpockets avoided him.

Creeping up behind him, Dylan grinned to herself as she childishly put her hands over his eyes.

"Guess who," she breathed in his ear, suppressing giggles.

"Jack the ripper," Jezebel responded casually as Dylan released his eyes and he turned to hug her, "my dear master Jack, you have become very pretty these days."

Dylan laughed happily. "It's so good to see you, Bel!" she told him squeezing him tightly, leaning back to get a clearer look at him. "Have you been eating? You look thinner… and paler… that's hardly a good thing."

"What about you? You don't look too great yourself either," he frowned, putting a hand beneath her chin, examining his face, "no really… Dyl… you don't look so great."

She pushed him off her. "Don't fuss granny," she teased, "I just… well your little brother and my supposed fiancé basically had a dick comparing competition which resulted in Jean getting a fist in his face."

"You don't mince for yours do you…" muttered Jezebel.

She shook her head. Then took his hand, tugging him away. "C'mon, we'll find a roof to climb on, it's always nicer out of the smog."

"But I-" he stopped and shook his head, "no I don't…" he grinned. "You always make me do something I know someone will disapprove of."

"You're friends with me… end of."

He laughed. "I know just the place," he told her, returning the grip on her hand, leading her deeper into the labyrinth of allies and side streets.

Dylan stood on the wall of the roof, her toes over the edge, her arms spread and the wind billowing her dress out. She sighed and closed her eyes.

"Come away from there," Jezebel called over, from a much safer distance, leaning against the shed that enclosed the stairwell, "you'll fall."

"I won't," she replied easily, but stepped down off the wall and walked back towards him. "I always feel like I'm flying when ever I do that," she added.

"You look like you are too," Jezebel nodded as she flopped down to sit beside him, her skirts spread out almost delicately.

She tugged on the cotton angrily, as though she wanted to rip it, but she could hardly do so. She had not planned on leaving Jean so early, therefore trousers had not been worn.

"I hate dresses," she complained quietly, examining her the materiel in her hands, "they're so impractical. Great for concealing weapons. But impractical when running, climbing or… anything else."

Jezebel grinned to himself, and put an arm around her, hugging her close. "I missed you talking insanely." His grin slipped off his face, and he sighed.

"What is it?" Dylan asked, frowning as she looked up at him.

"I… I'm worried about you," he admitted, he looked at her, his eyes serious behind his glasses, "I want you to promise me something."

"Yes?"

"Be careful."

She raised an eyebrow and relaxed. "That's nothing new."

"Dylan, seriously, be careful… especially with anyone new in your life."

Frowning Dylan looked out across the sun lit city. "Is Alexis up to something again?"

Jezebel nodded curtly. "I don't know what it is yet… but he's up to something involving you. I don't like this plot either. No one fully knows the details, anyone involved only knows their part and no one knows anyone else involved. He's doing this very well. And why are you laughing?"

"Because you're worrying too much again. Like Katie. You shouldn't worry, I'll be fine. I'm a big strong girl now I'll have you know."

It was Jezebel's turn to become confused as his own brow furrowed. "What does that mean?"

Instead of replying she simply tapped her nose. "Don't get too involved, Bel, I don't want you to get burnt."

"Then you stop playing with fire so much, Dyl, then I won't worry so much."

She shrugged, her head resting on his shoulder. She sighed happily. "You know… your brother reminds me a little of you."

Jezebel started. "My… he is not my-"

"He is," she shrugged, "so I'll call him that."

"What do you mean he reminds you of me?"

"Well… he's become very protective. He keeps finding all sorts of ways of meddling in my life… but it all seems to be in aid of trying to look out for me. Which, as much as it honestly just pisses me off, reminds me of you."

"He is nothing like me," dismissed Jezebel, "he is not my brother."

And yet somehow, through his words, Dylan could have sworn she saw the slightest inkling of pride in Jezebel's eyes. As much as he suppressed it and twisted it into hate or worse, there was still a certain amount of love there. Dylan hoped with all her heart there was.

She wrapped her arms around his slim waist, loosing her face in his long hair.

"Never change," she whispered.

It was not that late in the evening that Dylan returned home. She had hoped that her younger siblings would have been in bed, however Charmaine and Gwen met her at the stairs, their eyes full and over flowing with questions for their big sister.

She became bombarded with questions as she sat trying to remove her boots and coat.

"Where did you go?"

"Did you have fun?"

"Did you see anyone?"

"Did you kiss?"

"Is he nice?"

"Will you marry him?"

"Was it-"

She started laughing, interrupting their streams of questions.

"Not know girlies," she complained, "I've just walked in!"

Charmaine's big brown eyes looked up into her sisters. "Do you love him?"

Controlling herself, reminding herself that Charmaine still lived in a world where love was the only reason for marriage. Another two years and she would understand the marriage was for convenience. She managed to stop herself from laughing.

"Champagne, honey," she said sincerely, "Jean and I are simply good friends, today was a day that two friends decided to meet and catch up."

"But papa said that-"

"Ssshht!" Dylan put a finger to her lips, "regardless, Jean and I are friends."

Charmaine pouted childishly, making Dylan laugh. She pressed a kiss to the younger girl's forehead, ignoring any complaints.

"Did you have fun though?" asked Gwen, from behind Dylan.

She paused and thought about her day. "You know what, Gwenny, I think I did," she smiled at her little sister, neglecting to tell them that the truly fun part was not with Jean.

From the shadowy hall way, Lily listened into the girls talk, an incredibly happy smile on her face. She turned to Sebastian, who instead looked rather more sceptical.

"See?!" she beamed, "see! There might be a match there after all!"

Sebastian sighed and shook his head. "We'll see, ma… I still don't know…"

It was that moment that Count Sedgewell chose to walk by them, an unreadable expression upon his face, an envelope in his hand. Curiously, Sebastian and Lily followed the head of the house out to meet Dylan and her sisters.

On seeing their father, Gwen and Charmaine jumped to their feet, only Dylan stayed stubbornly on the stairs, arguing with her shoe laces.

"Dylan," Alfred said slowly, holding out the envelope, "read this."

Sebastian's face was now even more confused. It was hardly something that she would have been in trouble for, he would not have appeared so calm. Neither was it good news, his expression would have been clearer. What ever was contained within the envelope was an utter mystery even to him, the son that prided himself in knowing his father in and out.

Dylan herself took the letter, a similar expression of bemusement on her face as Sebastian's.

She opened it revealing a guilded invitation card.

"Oh read it out!" pleaded Charmaine.

Dylan looked to her father who nodded somewhat grandly.

Taking a breath she opened it and read aloud.

"To the Sedgewell family, I formally invite you all to stay with us for the next weekend for an extended party in remembrance of our lost wife and mother, Jenifer Malfoy. As she wished to live for happiness and pleasure, we wish to remember in the same way, and for the first time it will be in the country of her birth and the country that she loved. Please write soon and tell us of your intentions, and we hope you are able to join in the festivities. Yours sincerely, Pierre and Jean Malfoy."

"Oh isn't that wonderful!" beamed Lily, "what a lovely way to remember that lovely woman. I always remember her being so full of life, she would most certainly approved of this."

Alfred's eyes were trained on Dylan, who was concentrating on the letter still. Sebastian watched his father, still feeling somewhat weary.

"Oh can I come mama?!" pleaded Charmaine, "it would be so much fun! Two whole days of dancing, good food, good company-"

"Dylan," Alfred finally spoke, she looked up at him, "what do you think, do you wish to attend?"

She shrugged and handed back the letter. "Are you, father?"

"I have no choice in the matter, Lily and I must, he is after all a good friend." He paused for a moment, studying her, "would you wish to come too?"

"Only if you have no qualms about it," she replied, standing up, "it would be interesting to see what would happen at such a party. Now if you excuse me, I would like to go to bed."

Alfred nodded and turned away, retracing his steps back again, leaving the rest of his family entirely at a loss.

"What was that about?" asked Charmaine, frowning.

Sebastian shrugged. "You know as much as I do. Now go to bed you too, I don't think Dylan can read to you tonight!"

"Sebby can you read to us?" asked Gwen standing up, as Sebastian came round to take her hand.

"I don't need a bed time story," sneered Charmaine, walking up the stairs regally.

"I do," mumbled Gwen, blushing.

Sebastian smiled softly, an expression that did not often grace his face. "I'll read to you," he promised, "what story?"

"The princess and the pea!" squealed Gwen.

Dylan on the other hand, got ready for bed with a smile on her face. A party… at the Malfoy's English estates… famous for being almost ridiculously big…

As she climbed into bed she could not shake the feeling that finally something was going to happen.

Meanwhile, at about the same time Oscar checked his own post.

One of the letter's was encased in a heavy white envelope, inside was an invitation to a two day party in remembrance of a party loving woman.

Grinning to himself, he wrote the RSVP then and there. He could never pass up a decent party.

Searching through the letters on his desk, Crehador found a half opened heavy white envelope. Inside the same invitation that Oscar had received at the same time to the same party.

Studying the words, Crehador found himself wandering if Dylan would be there, considering it was a possible suitor's party. Based on that inkling he decided to attend, he would be able to assess further the danger Dylan was in if he was able to.

And besides that, a long weekend for a party meant women and a chance to make money with his skills.

In the living Mary played solitaire by the fire place, lying flat on the floor studying the cards before her. Cain amused himself but watching her play and figuring out what step he would take a fraction of a second before Mary herself carried out the same move.

The butler walked in with a white envelope in his hand.

"Sorry sir," he said calmly, "it appears I over looked this in the morning, my apologises"

"Don't worry," Cain said calmly, "we all make mistakes. Thank you."

The butler bowed and left as silently as he came.

Mary sat up, looking interested. "What is it?"

"I don't know yet," he said carefully, opening the letter with delicate fingers. He pulled out the guilded invitation and read the same message that Dylan had read to her family only moments before. "Well well well… a party with the Malfoys."

Mary frowned. "Brother… are you sure we should go…?"

Cain grinned, "of coarse we should! It's the least I could do for ruining his day with Dylan today."

Even as he said this, a sense of danger seemed to encase the forth coming party. At the same time, there was no way he could pass up such an opportunity to set things straight.


	13. The Arrivals

A/N: AHAHAHAHAHA XD I have now reached a 100 pages (in appleworks… might be different in word…) so I'm quite pleased with myself, this one is deffinetly longer than BBBS :P

Oh and the next chapter I'm pretty excited about… much will b revealed folks ;) if you review me please!! I miss my lovely reviews from my awesum readers :(

Anyway- XD enjoy chapter 12 folks!!

12. The Arrivals

The carriage had be big, it housed the oldest boys, two of their daughters, a grandmother and the lord and lady of the family. As such it was an unusual amount of horses pulling such a thing along.

Dylan sighed and gazed out the window, tugging on the deep blue of her dress. It was crushed silk, puffed out quite about around the skirts, her sleeves were long and netted while the neck line was none existent as the top cut straight across her shoulders, across her chest, dipping slightly to reveal a little cleavage.

Again she was feeling incredibly uncomfortable. It had been Lily's idea. Margaret had complained, and loudly, that such a dress was not suitable for someone such as Dylan, but she had been over ruled when Albert pointed out it was Dylan's suitor holding the party (though she complained it should have been for Charmaine).

She glanced across at her sister who was excitedly peering out the window, to see where the carriage was being drawn to. She had always been a painfully plain girl. Though she had the unusual mix of blonde hair and wide brown eyes, her petite bone structure and sweet face was something people had become used to as they looked at her. Charmaine, luckily, had never been aware of such a trait, thanks to her sister, mother and grandmother she had always felt the prettiest sister.

Yet dressed in a soft pink dress, with her blonde hair piled up upon her head, Dylan was worried the little girl might have her heart broken. People could be so harsh.

As her eyes travelled across to her parents, she was met with the harsh blue green gaze of Margaret Garland, who had insisted she come along too. Dylan bit her lip and removed her eyes from her, forcing them to the ground.

Beside her, Albert touched her hand.

"You all right?" he asked softly.

"I'm fine," she replied, smiling, "just…" she rolled her eyes, "incredibly bored."

"We should be there soon."

"I hope so. I'll tear my hair out in a minute."

The brother and sister shared a smile briefly before turning away.

Still unable to take the absence of speech or general noise, Dylan began humming nursery rhymes under he breath.

Half way through 'baa baa black sheep' Margaret finally admitted Dylan's existence.

"Will you stop making that awful racket," she snapped.

Sighing, Dylan did not stop, but she did turn to look at the older woman.

"But… mother… Dylan has a beautiful voice," Lily complained, "besides," she smiled at her step daughter, "it's nice to have some sound in here."

"Bah," Margaret complained, "it's childish nonsense that's all it is."

"I am a child," Dylan replied simply, refusing to stop humming.

Charmaine looked between Margaret and Dylan for a moment, rather apprehensive, then said, "I like Dylan's singing, grandmother."

Both women turned towards the girl in surprise. It had been the first time Charmaine had openly defended her big sister.

"Sorry?" Margaret spluttered in surprise.

Even Lily seemed to be shocked, though yet again Alfred took no measures here.

"I like Dylan's singing," Charmaine repeated happily, she held her hands out to her big sister, "how does the one with the black birds go?" she asked.

Dylan blinked in surprise, then smiled, taking her hands. "Sing a song of sixpence," she started slowly.

"Oh… that was it," Charmaine beamed, then began singing, "sing a song of sixpence a pocket full of rye-"

Dylan grinned and joined in. "Four and twenty black birds baked in a pie."

The two girls ended up singing almost the rest of the way there, much to Margaret's annoyance. Somehow Lily joined in with a few of her own, even Albert suggested a few. Though Sebastian said nothing on the matter of the songs, he managed to hide a smile and looking at his father… he was certain there was a smile hiding in his eyes too.

It was not too long later that the family arrived at the enormous estates. Dylan felt like a little girl again as she and Charmaine leaned out the window to get a better look at huge house as well as huge grounds. Behind her she could hear Lily speaking to Alfred, as though she could not hear (though she doubted most people would have been able to).

"If she agrees to this, she could be living here!" Lily was saying, "she'd have no more troubles and she could be so happy with him."

To her surprise, Sebastian was the one who spoke against it: "I would not be so sure, mama," he said, "she still has a mind of her own. Not very becoming of a woman to speak it so brazenly, but somehow it do not think it would be suited to someone such as master Malfoy."

"I still don't know why Charmaine hasn't been proposed to by the master Malfoy," sniffed Margaret, "surely she would benefit from such a match far better than that _girl_."

Dylan chuckled as she withdrew herself back into her seat, soothing down her hair.

"Hey Dylan," said Bert suddenly, "look at me a minute."

She turned to look at him frowning, "what?" she asked as her studied something just above her head then moved his hand and flicked a lock of hair back into place.

"Just that," he grinned, "you look stunning."

Dylan suppressed a scowl and turned back in her seat. "Not really."

The carriage lurched to a halt, and one by one the men got out before the women. Then Lily was helped from the carriage by Alfred, Charmaine by Bert and Margaret by Sebastian.

Again Dylan was left on her own, not that she minded, it displayed her independence better. But when she leaned out of the carriage to get out, there was a hand there waiting for her to take it.

Surprised she followed the suited arm down to meet the eyes of her long time friend. Recognising him from beneath his top hat, Dylan grinned and took his hand gratefully as she descended from the carriage gracefully, her skirts gathered in one hand to stop them from getting in the way of her feet.

"Dominic, what on Earth are you doing here?!" she asked, accepting his arm.

"I just arrived," he shrugged, "more or less the same time as you and your family, and I was hardly going to leave you all alone now was I?"

"Well I'm just glad to see you," she replied, discreetly squeezing his arm with her hand, "I won't feel like a complete outsider."

They arrived at the huddle of the rest of the Sedgewell family.

"Mama, father, you remember Dominic Crehador," she said smiling, she was almost happy to note that her father, Bert and Sebastian looked less than pleased at his presence as they shook hands with Dominic firmly. Somethings really did not change.

"Oh, Dominic," beamed Lily, "oh my you've grown, you're a handsome man now. It's been so long since we've heard from you. I hear your gift has been giving you your own taste of personal fame."

"Lady Sedgewell, you are far too kind," Dominic bowed towards her, and took her hand and kissed it gently, "and as beautiful as ever."

"My my," blushed Lily, "a flatterer, I believe you have yet to meet my mother."

Dominic turned to Margaret. "Lady Garland," he said grandly, "your reputation proceeds you." Again he bowed at the waist and kissed the older woman's hand. It was a thoroughly good thing everyone missed the glance that passed between Dominic and Dylan as he spoke those words.

"Oh, Dom," Dylan started, spotting her little sister blushing a little behind Lily, "do you remember my little sister? Champ- I mean Charmaine?"

At her name the younger girl came into view, a blush still in her fair cheeks.

"Though I'll admit… I can hardly call her my little sister any more," chuckled Dylan, on seeing how shy poor little Charmaine was. Oh the naïvety of little girls.

"Charmaine, I hardly recognised you there," smiled Dominic kindly, paying her the same respect as he did to her mother and grandmother; a bow at the waist and a kiss on her hand, "you truly have grown."

As discreetly as possible, Dylan pushed the heel of her shoe into his foot. Taking the hint he stepped away from her, trying not to yelp in pain.

"Well he had better not stand out here chatting all day," said Sebastian loudly, "we should all go in."

"Agreed," nodded Dominic, "my lady," he added, offering his arm to Dylan.

"Thank you," she smiled, taking it gratefully.

Lead by a scowling Alfred and light hearted Lily, the others followed on in pairs. The only two who even seemed to be having a vaguely good time were Dylan and Dominic, Dominic updating Dylan on everything that had been happening recently.

Glancing round briefly at Charmaine, Dylan just caught a look of jealousy towards her. She had entirely forgotten the enormity of the crush Charmaine had felt towards Dominic. Though she had figured it had been too long for her to remember, apparently her little sister was persistent.

"Hey Dyl," Dominic said suddenly, "tonight… be careful."

She grinned lopsidedly. "What's that supposed to mean? It's not like our Earl friend is coming to this."

He frowned. "What?"

Dylan chuckled. "I guess he didn't tell you," as her brother glanced back at them as they were about to enter the atrium of the house she covered her mouth as though embarrassed, "he and Jean got into an argument… ending in the earl punching Jean in the face." Her mischievous eyes studied Dominic's smirk. "So I truly doubt that he will be invited tonight."

"Perhaps not," he agreed, "now, play nice for your to-be husband."

"If I feel like it."

They arrived just as Margaret Garland had finished showing off Charmaine (who was looking incredibly flushed and embarrassed). As both Pierre and Jean turned to look at the approaching Dylan and Dominic.

"Miss Dylan!" beamed Pierre as Dylan dropped a curtsy before him. He too bowed before her taking her hand in his, "you look as ravishing as ever."

"Father," growled Jean beside him, a blush flushing his cheeks.

"Oh hohoho, I believe my son is getting rather jealous," he winked at Dylan happily, kissing her fingers. He turned his attention to Dominic as Dylan stifled a giggle. "My lord Crehador!" he beamed, "my my my, I was unsure if you would come or not, what an unexpected pleasure."

"The pleasure's all mine, my lord," Dominic said, mock grandly, "it has been so long since I have seen either you or your son."

Dylan's eyes slide up to study Jean as he kissed her fingers. Instead of looking at her, his black eyes were instead trained on Dominic, almost suspiciously. Hiding her eyes once again, she rose from her curtsy, still listening to the other conversation.

"If I remember rightly," Pierre said slowly, "you were but a boy of seven when we last set eyes on you or your family. You had a most remarkable gift."

"That is correct, I'm flattered that you remember," Dominic bowed his head. He turned his attention to Jean, "it is good to find you well master Malfoy."

"Please call me Jean," he said, as the two shook hands. It seemed only Dylan noticed both seemed to be squeezing the other's hand harder and harder. "But, my lord Crehador, what is this gift my father speaks of, I am most curious."

"He speaks with spirits," said Sebastian, coming to stand beside Dylan, his hands in his pockets, "has done for many a year." He grinned sardonically, "it has given him much fame in recent years."

"Is this true?!" Jean was astounded, "that's amazing!"

Dominic smirked a little, and bowed a little again. "I thank you for your admiration, but it had become far too normal to me now."

"Understandably," boomed Pierre, "but would we be able to trouble you for a séance during this party? I'm sure my late wife would have enjoyed such a thing. She had a taste for danger."

"No doubt," nodded Dominic, "I don't see why not. Say… tomorrow evening?"

"Fantastic!" grinned Pierre, "what do you say Jean?"

There was a hesitation before he replied, "we'll see… thank you, lord Crehador."

"As I said before," smirked Dominic, "the pleasure is all mine." He looked around, a few more guests were entering, "we have been hogging all your time, for give us, my lords, we should prepare our rooms."

"Ah of coarse," Pierre shook his head, "I had forgotten. I must explain something quickly. This is of coarse a large house but a single room per person is still impossible. My lord and lady Sedgewell will of coarse be sharing one room and my lady Garland shall have a room to herself as well."

"Oh you're too kind," beamed Margaret, curtsying quickly.

"Masters Sebastian and Albert will be sharing a room. And miss Dylan and miss Charmaine will be as well."

Charmaine squealed, "it'll be fun! Dylan can help me get ready in the mornings!"

Dylan chuckled. "I'd help you anyway," she teased, winking at the younger girl.

"Unfortunately, I do hate to spring this on you, but I believe miss Mary Weather Hargreaves, Earl Hargreaves' little sister is a friend of yours," said Pierre unexpectedly.

"Oh yes, we've been friends for years," Dylan replied without thinking, "why?"

"The siblings have been invited, though I am unsure if they will come," the lord shot his son a disproving glance, to which Jean bowed his head in shame, "however if they do so, miss Mary will be sharing with you."

"That will be fun," said Dylan softly, and turned to Charmaine, "she's quite a bit younger than us but she's so mature and has a great sense of humour."

Charmaine hesitated, then beamed. "Well, three girls in a room… it'll be like a slumber party!"

"Crehador, if it's not too much trouble, you will be sharing with the Earl Hargreaves and his friend Oscar Gabriel."

"No trouble at all thank you my lord," he glanced around, "I think it best we settle into our rooms now."

"Agreed, we shall see you all later," Pierre beamed.

As he turned to greet the new guests, Jean reached out and tugged on Dylan's arm. She paused and turned to him, her eyes large and innocent.

"I hope you have fun here," he said, sincerely.

"My dear Jean Malfoy," she winked, "why on earth would I not? You truly have invited everyone. I expect the party to be extraordinary now." She glanced around, seeing the new guests preoccupied with Pierre, and only her step mother, Sebastian and Dominic watch, she leaned up and pecked his cheek. "See you," she whispered and darted off to join her family and her friend.

A little while later, outside the grand house, Cain leaned out of the carriage and stepped to the ground, a hand to his top hat to stop it from falling off. The grounds as well as house were most certainly awe inspiring.

He turned and held his hand out to help his sister down from the carriage. The little girl's already large blue eyes were now the size of saucers as she stared up and up at the house.

"It's so big…" she murmured, a hand to the back of her hat to stop it from succumbing to gravity and falling to the floor.

"Wealth does that," Cain shrugged, taking her hand, "they want to show everyone how much more money they have than the next man down and try to ignore the size of the house of the man up from them."

"Jeez… they went over board with this place!" complained Oscar, jumping from the carriage, "my apartment block is about half this size."

Cain rolled his eyes, "remind me why I brought you with me."

Oscar's grin faded. "Because you wanted to keep an eye on me the _whole _time we were here…"

"Oh yeah… well I have good reason to. If you so much as touch Mary's hair I will cut off your hand… is that understood?"

"Yes," grumbled Oscar, "can we go in now?"

Mary laughed at that and tugged on Cain's hand to go inside.

A moment later they were being greeted by the Malfoy's very warmly. Pierre complimenting Mary's beauty, Oscar's loss and finally Cain's infamy.

"I must admit, I feel as though I am tempting fate by inviting you here, but you are such an enigmatic character I could not help myself!" beamed Pierre, he glanced at his son, "I also hope that you can forgive my son his snide comments from a few days ago."

Cain smiled and shook his head. "No no, my lord, I feel that it is I that must apologise. It is understandable for master Malfoy to become rather protective of miss Sedgewell. Since the young lady stayed with me to visit my sister much of the upper class has jumped to conclusions of wedding bells between the two of us."

He chuckled.

"I must tell you now, nothing of the sort has crossed my mind. Besides, it is I who struck Jean out of anger," he turned to the heir, "for that I must give my deepest apologies, I did not mean for my anger to get the better of me."

Jean smiled and held out his hand to the younger man. "I accept your apology, Earl Hargreaves, and I hope you accept mine."

Taking the hand, the two men shook warmly.

"Of coarse," Cain nodded.

"This is great!" beamed Pierre, "Earl Hargreaves I hope we may become great friends."

"As do I," nodded Cain. Beside them Mary yawned a little. "I hate to be rude, but it has been a long journey, would it be possible to settle into our rooms?"

"Of coarse, but I should explain the sleeping arrangements."

The three looked a little confused.

"Miss Mary will be sharing with the two Sedgewell girls, I believe you and miss Dylan are good friends."

"Oh yes," beamed Mary angelically, "she's more like my big sister really."

"Then that arrangement will work very well. Now, Baron Gabriel and Earl Hargreaves, the two of you will be sharing with Dominic Crehador, I trust that will not be an issue?"

Cain and Oscar both shook their heads.

"We shall meet again for dinner," Jean smiled, "I hope you enjoy your stay here."

"I'm sure we will," grinned Oscar, as Cain lead Mary away.

As they walked away, Cain hauled Mary into his arms.

"I'm proud of you, Cain," smiled Mary happily as they made their way up the stairs, "I know how much pride it would take you to swallow to say so-"

"I wouldn't start celebrating yet Mary," sighed Cain.

"W… What?" she asked.

Cain grinned as he looked up at her. "Let's just say I have ulterior motives to get on the Malfoys' good side," he winked at her.

"Dear God Cain," muttered Mary tiredly, "I'm suddenly very glad I am _not _sharing a room with you this time."

He just laughed as they arrived at the first floor.


	14. Revelations

A/N: only one review : ( but I have more readers :'(

On a lighter note… THANK YOU SO MUCH CASSIE!! Seriously what you said honestly made my day XD and I'm not that good… I just write a load of crap :P

And now… much is revealed ;)

13. Revelations

That evening, by dinner time, all the guests had arrived. There were only two separate tables. One table for the older guests (and even that seemed to be split in two) the other for those below about thirteen.

Mary was fortunate enough to find herself situated between two of the thirteen year olds and therefore found the conversation more stimulating that it could have been had she been sitting with someone her own age. She was more fortunate still that the two were siblings and the boy was far more for females having an opinion than many boys of his age. Which was unusual.

Meanwhile, the seating arrangement at the other dinner table was quite different and somewhat political in some respects. At one end, Pierre sat at the head with Alfred on his right and Lily on his, mean while the lady Margaret Garland was sat, quite comfortably, towards the middle where most of the other older generation were put.

On the other end Jean Malfoy was at the head. Strangely Dylan had been put on his left, and on her left was her good friend Dominic Crehador. On Jean right, a move that most confused everyone at the table, was Cain Hargreaves, and again on his right was his friend Oscar Gabriel. Beside poor Oscar was a smiling Albert Sedgewell, and beside a little peeved Crehador was the scowling Sebastian Sedgewell.

Though Dylan suspected it was to demonstrate his heartfelt apology for what happened to them the few days previously. She personally felt she had the best seat in the house, what transpired between these two could only be very interesting.

All evening pleasant conversation could be heard up and down the table. While Pierre discussed politics with the men that surrounded him, the women gossiped. The older generation spoke of the 'good old days' (some things really never change). The younger generation on the other hand were far more preoccupied with what had been planned for the forth coming entertainment. The party was due to begin officially the next day, Saturday.

"Oh Jean, you can't leave us in suspense," pouted a girl, about the age of eighteen or nineteen, named Elizabeth, "that is simply just too cruel."

Dylan rolled her eyes, put kept her eyes on her soup, trying hard not to slurp it. Which was in fact a very difficult feat.

Across from her, Cain caught the exasperated look and tried _his _hardest not to react. Such comments from such a girl were not uncommon, but they seemed to offend Dylan greatly.

"But I must," Jean told her, "I know very little of what is to come, my father was in charge of the arrangements. Alas… I was left in charge of catering and invitations."

"I heard Lord Crehador was going to hold a séance," commented one young man, James Dylan thought his name was, "is it true?"

"Possible," admitted Crehador calmly, "but we shall see. Such things are forbidden."

"But that's what makes them fun," said Dylan demurely, "you can hardly hold a party without a little rebellion." She looked at Jean, "would you not agree? The fun would be all spoiled then."

A few nodded in agreement, but she noticed that Elizabeth looked less than happy at the comment.

"But rebellion can't really out step the law," she said, sounding haughty, she looked across at Cain who was smirking into his soup, "would you not agree, Cain?"

He looked up somewhat startled, then glanced across at Dylan before speaking. "Miss Elizabeth, the fact that you wish to follow the law proves you to be a most honest citizen," here he paused, allowing her to show a look of pride towards Dylan, "unfortunately, this also proves you to be a dull one at that."

The look on her face was that of utter outrage and embarrassment as the people around them laughed.

"Somethings I agree. we must follow the law. But satisfying one's curiosity… do you not think sacrificing such morals is worth it? Besides, morals here have very little to do with wishing to speak with the dead."

"Here here," someone said.

As Dylan lifted her glass of wine to take a sip she momentarily met his eyes and lifted the glass towards him before drinking. He did the same.

Elizabeth on the other hand was still seething, but she had very little to say. Dylan got the idea that she could be trouble later on. However trouble suited the young woman best.

As the main coarse was served, gossip seemed to the the topic best liked at the table, and all attention was suddenly fixed on Dylan. Something she was now used to, but when shared with another male… that was when she became uncomfortable.

"So, miss Dylan and Jean," said a girl (Lisa, Dylan was fairly sure that was her name), "when's the date?"

"Excuse me?" she asked, more curiously than anything else, "date?"

"The marriage date of coarse!" Lisa exclaimed, "what else?!" She paused as Jean and Dylan seemed to exchange glances of embarrassed confusion.

Unnoticed, Cain's body appeared to stiffen, his fingers grasping far more tightly around the glass in his hand.

"We're not… getting married," Jean said slowly, his cheeks red as Dylan started laughing, glancing across towards Cain without really meaning to.

"You're not?" Lisa sounded almost disappointed, Dylan on the other hand noted Elizabeth's look of triumph, "but I thought your father…"

"Lord Malfoy proposed a match, that's true," Dylan said kindly, Lisa seemed like a nice enough girl, "but to be honest neither of us want that. And unfortunately things like this develop like chinese whispers, don't take everything you hear seriously. Jean and I are simply friends."

"But I was so looking foreword to a wedding," sighed Lisa forlornly, her sweet face only made Dylan smile more. There was something about Lisa that reminded her most astonishingly of Gwen.

"You may still get one, Lisa," Cain said kindly, "there are many more proposals going around at the moment."

"Meaning yourself and miss Dylan?" asked another man, or boy depending on one's point of view, he was about nineteen, "that rumour has yet to die down as well."

Both he and Dylan froze on hearing this. Then laughed as the glanced nervously across the table.

"My my," Dylan covered her mouth a little, classic sign of feminine embarrassment, "I could have sworn that rumour disappeared long ago."

"So had I," admitted Cain, "but everyone is very much mistaken, Dylan and I, as she and Jean, are simply friends. Though admittedly I met her through my little sister. Mary and miss Dylan have been as sisters for years. Through her, Dylan and I met a few months ago and got on famously."

"Very true Cain," Dylan smiled, though only Cain, Oscar and Crehador could tell it was forced, "I think it was that night at the theatre that started that one…" she laughed, more trilled, gaily, "I trip and Cain helps me regain my balance and not a moment later, everyone has decided I'm getting married to him or pregnant with his child or some nonsense."

The people around them laughed along with them. All of them knew what it was like to be the butt off gossip from the slightest gesture of a sneeze to hugging someone the rest of society has yet to meet.

Cain and Dylan again looked across the table, accidentally meeting each other's gaze. While Dylan refused to look away, Cain simply smirked. She swallowed her pride and turned to engage Jean into a conversation about the right of the lower class. She hoped the simple gesture of turning to the man whom he had punched recently, supposedly to defend her, would be enough. It seemed to have the opposite effect. Cain's eyes had yet to leave her, and they looked far more triumphant that ever.

Later on in the evening, when the men and women had split up into different rooms, Dylan became bored. The girls about her age were still gossiping, and she had little time for it.

Mary seemed to have taken a couple of seven year olds under her wing and was teaching them mother goose rhymes. Margaret Garland was still shooting her disgusted looks as she and her daughter spoke to the other mothers of such things as suitors to daughters and sons.

Charmaine was having a ball! People were paying attention to her, and complementing her profoundly. Every girl she spoke to seemed to be interested in the same things she was.

Sighing, Dylan got up and told Mary to come to bed soon, she told Charmaine the same thing telling her she would have the entire weekend to talk. Finally she told Lily that she was going to bed.

"All right dear, are you all right?" she added.

"Just tired," yawned Dylan, "I must admit, mother, I have had very little sleep recently."

Lily looked momentarily worried, then kissed Dylan's forehead. "Good night, and I'll see you in the morning."

"Night mother," Dylan smiled, leaving the room almost hurriedly.

She honestly did not like the company of these upper class women. Recently she had forgotten why, this simple dinner had reminded her.

On the way to her room she bumped into Lisa.

"Dylan!" the blonde was surprised, "are you all right?"

Dylan nodded. "I'm fine, just a sleepy. I'm not very good at parties either."

"Me neither," Lisa admitted, "but if I don't go down and be social, mother will kill me."

"Annoying isn't it?" Dylan said, tiredly.

"Most definitely. But you get to bed, you do look rather pale. I do hope you feel better in the morning," Lisa beamed at her, "the party will be fun with you here, I can tell! Besides," she looked around, "we need someone who will cut Elizabeth Somerset down to size. She honestly can be a right… right…"

"Bitch?" asked Dylan.

Lisa flushed red and giggled. "Oh yes most definitely! Well I hope you sleep well, see you in the morning."

"Yeah," nodded Dylan, "see you."

Watching the girl leave, Dylan shook her head. Lisa may have been a little introverted, but she had a lot of energy and a very kind heart. She could tell that already.

She arrived at her room, and slipped inside quietly, not even bothering to turn on a proper light. She shut the door with a sound click and leaned against it, tugging at the blue dress. She loved the materiel, but the corset was killing her.

Moving away from the door, Dylan found her way to her bed side table and picked up the box of matches beside the candle. She struck a match stick and lit the wick of two candles. She knew once she was in bed, she would not be bothered to get out again.

She reached around the back of her dress, attempting to try to undo it when-

The door locked with a click. She stopped for a fraction of a second, turned her head very slightly. Out of the corner of her eyes she could make out the figure of Cain standing by the door, his hands in his pockets.

She chuckled as she went back to fighting with the zip.

"Good evening, Earl, what brings you here?"

"I should be asking you that," he said coldly.

"This is my room," she responded, getting frustrated with the dress, "I have more of a right to be here than you surely!"

"Don't get sassy with me, girl," he said coldly, "you know what I mean."

She turned to him. "What are you doing here, earl, I do mean my room. Shouldn't you be at the party? Discussing things with the men?"

There was a hesitation before he replied. She studied him closely. He was no longer wearing his blazer. His tie was untied and was draped under his collar loosely. His top couple of buttons were undone, as were his cuff buttons. He looked entirely different to how he had done at dinner. He seemed almost relaxed. The strangest thing of all, was that Dylan was beginning to feel drawn to him again. Again she pulled back. She did not need such emotions.

Before he could reply she turned her back to him and pointed at the zip.

"You couldn't help me here could you? It's just I didn't want to drag Mary or Charmaine away from having their fun."

"Mary?!" Cain sounded startled as he moved towards her.

"Oh yes," grinned Dylan, "she was ripping into a boy when I left, about… about the age of twelve? Thoroughly entertaining really. He didn't know what hit him! I think she now has a few fans and admirers."

"Well," smirked Cain, as he brushed Dylan skin pushing her hair away from the zip, "she is after all my sister."

"I suppose," she shrugged, "hurry up would you, I want to go to sleep."

Scowling, Cain unzipped the back quickly. He was about to turn away when Dylan spoke again.

"I know I'm taking advantage now, but the corset? Please?"

"Do you have no shame?" grumbled Cain quietly.

"You've seen me in less," laughed Dylan, "or are you getting embarrassed?"

"No," he stated, "of coarse not."

He fiddled with the knot, finding to his shame that his hands were in fact shaking. Getting angry with himself, he undid the knot and loosened the string holding her in.

Letting out a gust of air, Dylan smiled. "You have no idea how good that feels."

"Yeah…" Cain had turned away from her and was staring at the wall obstinately.

"Jeez someone's turned virgin on me," Dylan laughed, "all right all right, stare at the wall, but talk to me as well. I mean… that's why you're here isn't it? To tell me off for something or another."

"You can read me like a book miss Dylan," Cain grumbled.

"All right, come on, give me the lecture," she complained, the dress slipping to the floor, rather noisily.

Cain was blushing by this point and was incredibly glad that she could not see his face.

"I know you didn't want me to do any research on your fiancé, but I was hardly going to let you tell me what to do."

Dylan paused. She had bent beside her draw to pull out a pair of pyjamas. She sighed and let him continue.

"Crehador was ahead on me on that one, he started his research on the family three days before I asked for his help. Together, with a lot of Oscar's snooping as well, we managed to piece together quite a bit of information. I hate to tell you this… but Jean Malfoy and Pierre Malfoy are both fully paid up members of Delilah."

Standing up Dylan removed her corset, a grin on her face. She mock gasped. "Really!"

Yet Cain was far too involved with telling her what he knew to notice the sarcasm.

"Yes really. Lord Pierre and my father met in France, when they were students. It appears Pierre is something of the head of a branch of Delilah in France, which just goes to show Delilah is far more influential than we thought."

"Oh really," said Dylan, sitting on her bed watching him as she did up her buttons.

"Further more, Jean is most definitely aware of Delilah's existence and even carries out some of the missions. And they are both aware of… my father…" he paused and turned to look her. She was sitting on the bed, a large grin on her face dressed in her too large men's pyjamas gazing up at him quite innocently. "Still being alive- Why are not sounding surprised and not lashing out at me for thinking such things?" he asked curiously, coming towards her.

That was when she could no longer hold it in. She burst out laughing. She was positively in uncontrollable hysterics.

"Cain," she said through her giggles, "oh Cain, poor sweet innocent Cain." She paused, then a fresh lot of laughter engulfed her again. "Not so innocent Cain!"

"What?!" he complained, coming to sit beside her, "you can't just start-"

"I knew," she spluttered, "I knew!"

He stared at her, then grasped her arms. "You _what_!"

"I knew!" she beamed, "from pretty much the word go I knew. Well… I was rather taken by Jean the first time I met him, he was adorable. But there was something sinister about him. He was _too _nice, _too _generous and _too _embarrassed the whole time. It was kind of annoying. And when you learn to force a blush, you can always tell when someone else can as well, trust me. If you pay enough attention anyway."

"You knew… and yet you let him become so close to you?"

"Close to me?! Oh Jesus fuck Cain, give me some credit! They say hold your friends close but your enemies closer for a reason. Remember what I told you? The first time I cam to stay with you?"

He remembered. All too clearly as well.

He released her arms, looking away. This was the first time anyone had been a step ahead of him.

By now she had calmed down quite a lot, even her grin had gone.

"That was kind of why I did not want you to get involved. You need to sort the bigger picture. You need to sort Alexis out and if someone like me can start pecking at the cracks, then your job will be easier.

"Jean is a small fry, I don't intend on taking down the family. I never planned on marrying him, I had planned on exposing him. But if it came down to marriage, well," she smirked, "I reckon I'd be more useful on the inside don't you?"

"So… so is that why you pushed me away?"

"Yah-huh," Dylan rolled her eyes, "you should listen to a girl sometimes."

"So why didn't you just tell me?!"

"Well to begin with I really was angry with you, the whole 'oh maybe if I kiss her she'll forgive me' thing kinda pissed me off. But it didn't get to me half as much as you getting annoyed about me and Dominic being friends, then you seeming to think that we had half a chance together! Something like that… well let's just say I'm definitely not that optimistic. But I still got over that. When I got home."

Cain just looked at her.

"All right, a little _after _I got home, I had more or less planned on swallowing what pride and dignity I had left and say sorry to you next chance I could. But then father brought up the thing with Jean, I met him, became suspicious, used a few connections and had the whole thing sussed. Unfortunately, I also figured I needed to get you as far away from me as possible, so I decided to be rather mean to you… as you could see."

"But… that time outside Carlie's-"

"I… I missed you. For a minute I thought that maybe… just maybe I could let you back into my life and it wouldn't mess with my plan. Then you brought up Jean, and it went a bit belly's up. So that's why I blew up at you a bit more than I really had to. I guess I kinda hoped if I got pissy with you you wouldn't want to get involved… and I had forgotten how closely affiliated with Dominic you had become." She shrugged. "Ah well… considering we're now on the same page… maybe you can help me out."

"Maybe…" he paused, "that doesn't explain why you insisted that I not look into your family-"

"I stick by that," she said firmly, then relented, "that's a lie… there's something else I should tell you. It's about Margaret Garland."

"Your grandmother?"

"Step" sighed Dylan, "you need to keep up with this."

"It's hard enough trying to figure out my relationships with the rest of my own family, Dylan… yours seem to be getting just as complicated."

She chuckled a little. "I'll agreed with that."

She pushed herself up on her bed and against her pillows.

"You can get on too if you take off your shoes," she grinned.

Feeling like a little boy again, Cain took off his shoes and climbed onto the bed sitting opposite her again. Was it just him… or did it feel like some sort of 'story time' scenario?

"Margaret Garland, as you found out rather prematurely, looked after my mother from when mum was about five till about seventeen eighteen, there abouts. Lily Garland never really liked mum that much growing up, but there was never really any major feud, apart from maybe 'that's my dress' type of thing."

Cain snorted. He'd never really understood sibling rivalry.

"But from a young age, Fredrick Garland took a liking to mum, and when she was about fifteen, they began a sort of relationship.

"Margaret was pleased, she liked my mother quite a lot. But when mum was sixteen nearly seventeen I think, Fredrick was diagnosed with a disease… I'm not sure what it was, but it was a product of meningitis. When he was sick with meningitis, it was mum who cared for him day and night. When was had gotten over it, the doctors discovered his brain had been infected."

He didn't know what to say to that. Sounded as though Natalie O'Toole did not have an easy life.

"Fredrick later on called off the relationship between himself and mum, because of it, saying he could never do such a thing to her. Mum was eighteen at the time, and in love with him, but nothing could make him change his mind. So… so she left the house. At the time Fredrick was twenty six."

"Quite an age gap."

Dylan smiled. "I know… but there was a bigger one between mum and father."

"What does this have to do with you and Lady Garland."

"Margaret loved my mum, she was present there when I was born, and promised mum that I would have a good life, and that she would help look after me. She was there at the funeral when my mum died, and, though my family doesn't know it, it was her that made father aware of my existence."

"So she doesn't really hate you? Why does she act like she does!"

"It's partly because she and I have the same power, the ability to speak with animals. It sort of helps to cover it."

"The other part?"

Dylan paused. "The other part is a little more complex… Maybe we should discuss it another time. It's late and Mary and Charmaine could come up at any time."

Cain glanced at the clock. It really was late, nearing midnight. The the adults would go on speaking for hours, the younger generation would be coming to bed soon.

"Understandably," he nodded.

"Cain," Dylan said suddenly before he could move.

He looked at her, she was leaning towards him.

"Can you forgive me?"

"What for?"

"For trying to cut you out of my life… I didn't mean to hurt you, I was just desperate and-"

He shook his head. "It's fine. You did what you thought was necessary. I would have done the same."

She smiled, "good… I would have hated it if you couldn't."

"Dylan…"

She looked up at him.

"I'm fairly sure there is _nothing_ you could do to make me hate you."

"And that's good too," she smiled.

"Except maybe join Delilah or get involved with Oscar," winked Cain.

Dylan tried not to giggle, but her grin was very clear to read.

It was here the two realised the distance between them had almost closed. When had they started to lean towards each other? Neither could really answer that. Neither of them particularly cared. This was when both leaned towards each other, to close the gap entirely. It was the one thing they both knew they sincerely wanted.

Which was when someone started hammering at the door. They sprung apart as they they had been electrocuted.

"Dylan?!" called Charmaine, "are you in there?"

"That's my sister!" hissed Dylan, in a panic as Cain slide off the bed.

"You'd better not be asleep!" added Mary.

"That's mine!" moaned Cain, "she'll kill me!"

"They'll kill the both of us!" she glanced around the dimly lit room, "ok… ok… calm…"

"DYLAN!" they yelled.

"I'm coming!" she replied, "one minute!" An idea struck her. "Get under the bed."

"What?!"

"Get under the bed! You can sneak out of here later… right now they can't know you're here."

"You've done this before," he grumbled, as he dropped to the floor.

"You can tell," she rolled her eyes kicking his shoes after him.

As he grunted in pain, Dylan pushed back her sheets and ruffled her hair as she answered the door and admitted the two girls in.

"Sorry," she yawned, "I dozed off."

"We noticed," Charmaine rolled her eyes walking round to her bed, pulling out her own night gown, "normally you're pretty quick to answer the door." She walked into the ensuite.

"Why didn't you stay?" asked Mary, kicking off her shoes, pulling out her own night suit.

"I got bored," Dylan replied, getting back into bed, "the girls were mostly talking about suitors. Seems to be the only thing that occupies their minds now. I have no idea why."

"That's only because you have one!" called Charmaine, "can someone help me with the corset?!"

"Coming!" called Mary.

"Thank you!"

Mary walked into the bathroom and Cain tried to crawl out from under the bed.

"You know, you were quite the topic tonight!" called Charmaine.

"Oh really?!" Dylan replied, pushing Cain back under the bed with a warning look, shaking her head.

He mouthed at her 'why not?!'

"There's been so many rumours about you, mostly with men, that everyone wanted to know the truth. Mary and I know you pretty well so we sorted them out."

"Thanks!" She turned her attention back to Cain, 'they'll catch you, wait!' she managed to get across.

"There were quite a few questions about you and Jean," Mary added, "but we told them that you two were just friends- hey Charmaine, can you help me with the dress? My aunt wanted the bow to stay precisely in place and she's a demon with knots."

Cain slide back under the bed looking irritated.

"Oh, sure, here," Charmaine sounded pretty cheerful, "then there were questions about you and Earl Hargreaves."

As Dylan threw a book under the bed to keep Cain occupied, it seemed the two had the same reaction; sitting up quickly. Difference was Dylan had the space to straighten out quickly and Cain hit his head.

"WHAT?!" she complained, covering up for the quiet curses of the male under her bed.

"But we straightened them out," Mary reassured her, "thank god. They would not give it a rest."

"People kept swearing that there was going to be a marriage between the two of you," added Charmaine, laughing, "though the way the two of you were glaring at each other from across the table I wouldn't be surprised if you hated each other."

"We don't hate each other," Dylan said calmly, "we just had a disagreement. I'm sure we'll resolve it soon."

"I bloody well hope so," Mary told her, walking back into the room, her dress much looser, "I hate seeing the two of you arguing."

Charmaine re-entered the room as well, now dressed in her flimsy night gown, her hair brushed out. She frowned at her sister.

"Are you all right?" she asked, "you look a little strange."

"I always look strange sweetie," Dylan smiled, "but I'm just tired."

"Well don't put out your light until I get into bed, I don't want to get bruises from searching for my bed."

Dylan laughed.

About two hours later, when the clock struck two and the girls were breathing deeply, hopefully signifying sleep, Cain pulled himself from under Dylan's bed. He looked around. Unfortunately he had not gotten used to the dark having read by candle light under the bed (the candle had been but a stuck and so there was hardly any danger of fire).

He grabbed the matches on Dylan's bedside table and lit the candle, hoping to get a better look.

His sister was dead asleep, he could tell because she had her mouth slightly open and was snoring a little. She didn't know of this habit and therefor was unable to fake such a trait.

It appeared that Charmaine was fast asleep as well, her breathing was gentle and even.

Finally he turned to look at Dylan. Her face was screwed up into a little stubborn frown, her mouth was slightly parted for it. The coal black of her hair fanned out beside her, looking like feathers.

He tilted his head sideways to Dylan appeared to be the right way up. It was strange to think only a few months ago he suspected her of dealing on the side of Delilah then learning, albeit slowly, that she in fact hated them possibly more than he.

Somehow looking at her still hurt. He wasn't quite sure why or when that started. But now it just seemed that to be able to see her up so close hurt in some way, but also the simple fact that he could see her elated him.

He shook his head, he was being stupid, reading in too deep about his own emotions.

Pushing her dark hair away from her face, he contemplated on whether or not he would get kicked for kissing her or not. That was when he realised her eyes were in fact open.

Stifling a scream, he jumped back, only to have Dylan sit up, shoulder's shaking with unstoppable laughter, though no sound escaped her mouth.

"Your face!" she gasped, "oh jeez… your face was utterly priceless!"

"Oh yes very funny," he retorted, standing up, brushing himself off.

"Did you want something?" she asked, looking at him properly, her smile still playing about her face.

He shook his head. "No," he turned away from her, "I'll see you in the morning."

He walked towards the door, but just as his hand touched the door handle he heard "wait…"

"What?" he asked, without turning around.

A hand touched his shoulder. He was startled, he hadn't expected that. He turned to see Dylan standing behind him, she was smirking her signature smirk again.

"What?" he repeated.

She shook her head, and the next thing he knew his back had been pushed up against the door and Dylan had kissed him hard. Yet just as he realised what was happening and was able to react, the kiss stopped.

"Get out," she whispered in his ear, her breath tickling his neck. The door opened with the smallest of clicks and she pushed him out into the hall, closing the door immediately afterwards.

For a moment he stared at the closed door, then shook his head. As he walked back towards his own room, he wasn't even aware of his own enormous smile.


	15. Fun At The Carnival

A/N: why do I only get reviews when I complain :(

Anyway :) enjoy folks XD

14. Fun At The Carnival

The next day, at breakfast it appeared Dylan was missing. A few of the girls did not seem to particularly mind and Elizabeth was almost pleased. However Mary and Charmaine did not care. Until Jean appeared to begin to worry, which was when they explained she tended to wake early and eat early.

"Though," Charmaine added, smiling a little, "that does not necessarily mean she will be in a good mood, my lord. She is anything but a morning person."

Which was when Dylan chose to come almost crashing into the room. Her emerald green dress was gathered in her hands to let her run better, while her face was a picture of happiness.

She came to the other end of the table where Pierre was sat. She knelt beside the lord as he bent to listen to what she had to say. He laughed warmly, and took her hand in his and turned to Alfred booming down the table of what a delight she was. Dylan appeared to blush, but most of Dylan's friends were fully aware that it was fake.

"Who does she think she is," Elizabeth's voice sounded more jealous than anything else, "acting so familiar with lord Malfoy."

"My dear Elizabeth," said a cocky looking male of about the age of twenty, Cain was fairly sure his name was Richard, "miss Dylan is well known to be the oldest daughter of Count Alfred, as such I would be surprised if she would not be well known to Lord Malfoy."

"But she's illegitimate," sniffed Elizabeth.

"So am I," said another girl (Melody?), "but both she and I have been legitimised… would you argue with the word of her majesty?"

Elizabeth stiffened having very little else to say. It seemed that those who thought the same way as she were either weak or out numbered. She seemed surprised at the number of open minded nobles.

Cain smiled to himself, glad he did not have to step in to defend his… his friend.

Dylan came practically skipping down the table, and knelt beside Jean's place, between he and Cain.

"Your father told me it was your idea!" she said, grinning mischievously.

"What… oh!" his eyes widened, "so he did…"

She was nodding.

"I take it your pleased," Jean laughed.

"Pleased? Pleased! I'm ecstatic! Only… it's not allowed to start yet… we have to wait for most people to finish breakfast," she mock pouted and winked at the rest of the table.

"What is she talking about?"

"Yeah, miss Dylan what do you know?"

"Oh…" she trailed off, her grin still plastered all over her face, "I'm not allowed to tell… we just have to wait and see." She got up and walked away, a little skip in her step.

"Where are you going?" called Elizabeth, sounding annoyed.

"To get some orange juice," she called back, the next minute, she was no longer there.

"Where from? The kitchens?" Elizabeth laughed.

"Actually…" said Mary, almost smugly, "I think so."

It seemed the person Elizabeth had chosen to pick on had two or three too many people on her side. This was not something the young lady was used to, and as such, something the young lady would not back down from.

It turned out what Dylan had been so excited about was in fact the theme for that day. It appearing having realised that there would be quite a few young people amongst the nobles, the Malfoys opted to have the first day dedicated to them in the form of an enormous carnival type fun fair.

There were exotic animals, acrobats, dancers, clowns, magicians, stalls, the absolute works! Mary and Charmaine disappeared with Dylan very early on as they tried to tackle a coconut shy and conned her into doing it for them (her aim was as deadly as her punch it turned out).

Meanwhile Oscar ran around like a child in a fair ground (though to be fair only the child part was not true… however Cain did sometimes wander) as Cain updated Crehador on Dylan's knowledge and to discover what else he knew.

As Oscar finally caught up with the girls, Crehador was scowling.

"I don't like this…" he said, "I've always known Margaret and her had more to their relationship than met the eye… but if lady Sedgewell disliked miss O'Toole when they were young… wouldn't she despise her for the fact that miss O'Toole had an affair with her husband?"

Cain shook his head. "I don't know… lady Lily seems to genuinely like Dylan. She defended the girl with al her might when lady Margaret appeared to be insulting her." He shrugged. "I don't know the full story, Dylan will tell us to night, I'm sure of it. She hadn't completed the story for me either."

By now Crehador had tuned into the fact that Cain was in a strangely good mood for that time in the morning, and the fact that he seemed to be surrounded by gibbering idiots.

"Got a little distracted," smirked Crehador.

"No!" Cain defended himself, "interrupted." Crehador arched an eye brow. "Our sisters came back." He rolled his eyes.

Crehador laughed. "Well that was a massive swipe if I ever saw one! The little sisters came back… oh I bet you loved that."

"Shuddit," Cain growled, "I ended up spending two hours of the night under her damn bed! The only reason I got back into our room was because Oscar's some kind of human owl."

That again made Crehador snort.

"Well gentlemen, I hope you re enjoying the fair," came a happy, somewhat accented voice.

They turned to come face to face with Jean Malfoy, who was beaming.

"Not to my taste," Cain said slowly, "but it is interesting. You have the most marvellous beasts here."

"Father's idea. I came up with the idea for a carnival," explained Jean, "but it was father's party, it was up to him to go for the details. I think he did rather well for an old man."

"Oh definitely," nodded Cain, looking around.

"Excuse me, please gentleman, there is a young lady I must see to," Jean nodded his head, and walked between them, making a beeline for Dylan who had her sister and friend practically dancing around her as she blew a raspberry at Oscar, apparently he lost to her again.

Cain shook his head as Dylan looked up startled to see Jean. She beamed at him and accepted his offered hand.

Even as the two walked off, Crehador, Cain and Oscar all had knowing looks on their faces.

"Poor fool," murmured Cain.

"Poor stupid fool," agreed Crehador, "come, we'd better show miss Charmaine and miss Mary a good time if Dylan can't show off for them."

Cain chuckled as the two walked over to join them.

All day it seemed the Dylan was tied to Jean's side, though she defiantly not looking pleased about it. Every so often she would see Cain or Crehador or Mary, catch their eye and make a face, then appear to be the picture of innocence to anyone who paid attention to her. It inevitably made any of her friends who saw her laugh. Not surprising considering a girl in a green gown, artful make up holding onto a regal looking man was crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue, would have been enough to make a guard at Buckingham Palace laugh.

Again all day Lily seemed so pleased about the arrangement, while Alfred looked on with mistrust. Lily seemed to keep reminding him of his friendship with Pierre and how much of a great opportunity it would be for Dylan.

He still seemed unconvinced.

Eventually, Dylan was able to loose Jean in a crowd of well wishers, just to simply get away. She did like to be alone some of the time.

Finding a tree, a suitable distance from the crowds (the grounds were, quite literally, ridiculously enormous), she sat down and watched on happily. She was still close enough that no one could call her rude for abandoning the party, which unfortunately meant she was hardly out of ear shot. But then again, she was far enough away to not feel over powered.

She gazed upwards, through the branches and leaves of the tree, gazing at the blue sky. Strange that it was so clear, but it was beautiful.

"Hello dreamer," came a lazy voice.

Dylan turned lazily, finding herself face to face with Crehador. "Yes, spirit talker?"

"Abandoned one lover then?"

"He was starting to piss me off… I take it Cain updated you."

"Me and Oscar both. Oh and Dylan?"

"Mmm?"

"You're a bloody cheeky bitch, you know that?! You could have told me you already knew."

"I didn't realise Cain would turn to you for help… I guess he wasn't as stubborn as I gave him credit for."

"You really underestimated him this time," Dominic said tiredly, "so… you got a plan?"

"Well I would say this is the perfect distraction for me to go snooping, but the damn master of the house won't seem to let me out of his sight. I get the feeling he's onto me."

He looked at her sharply. "Your not… serious…"

"If he's apart of Delilah, he's got something special about him, like you and me… I just need to figure out what it is…"

"If I carried out the séance… would that work?"

Dylan shrugged. "Maybe… but somehow spirits have a nasty habit of going for me for possession."

"So does the Earl," Dominic said, musingly, "he's got some sort of psychic abilities. Not sure what though."

Dylan smiled to herself, closing her eyes leaning back against the tree.

"We'll think of something," she promised, "we have time… today I don't think we'll manage it… he's too suspicious… maybe tonight…"

Dominic shook his head and got to his feet. "Don't go to sleep there, Dyl, might not be such a good idea."

She simply waved a hand at him, basking in the dim sunlight from beneath the shadowy protection of the tree.

Behind her, she could hear the rustle of foot steps on grass. Someone had been listening into their conversation, though it was unlikely they found anything useful. It was still a strange feeling to know someone was listening in and there was little she could do about it.

No… there was something she could do about it, without letting on.

Opening her thoughts, and searching for a near by flying creature she found a cheeky little blue tit.

'_Ello missus!_' the bird twittered in the tree above her, sounding strangely like Mark, '_wha'cha needin'?_'

'_First of you need to be a little more respectful, kiddo._'

'_Awh don't be like that big sis, I'm here to help remember!_''

'_Starting to regret that now… can you keep an eye on the bugger that was just listening into my conversation? Watch where he goes, see if you can get a decent look at him. I'll have to get hold of you though. If I have a bird twittering round me at this place…_' she trailed off.

The blue tit got the idea. '_Haha… I wouldn't mind seeing that-_' he got a blast of angry emotion from Dylan, making him change his mind, '_All right all right, keep yer feathers on. See ya later sis._'

Dylan sighed, rolling her eyes beneath her lids. Blue tits, sparrows, red breasted robins and other small birds of the like… they all seemed to have the same cheeky demeanour. Though they were very useful.

As she reconnected the human communication spectrum, she became aware of a person coming towards her, in a long dress, probably expensive, and high heeled shoes.

As she opened her eyes she caught sight of brown haired, hazel eyed and beautifully dressed lady Elizabeth Somerset. She looked incredibly displeased to say the least.

"Hello lady Elizabeth," she said kindly, "what brings you away from the festivities?"

Realising she had been seen, Elizabeth paused then resumed her walking, this time much slower, a more leisurely pace.

"The noise began to give me a head ache," shrugged Elizabeth calmly, "I wanted to find a place to sit. I didn't realised someone was already here."

Dylan smiled at her, calmly, "sit, it's nice here."

"Oh no… I don't think that would be a good idea, I wouldn't want my dress to crumple."

Shrugged Dylan, closed her eyes again and leaned back against the tree again.

"I know," Elizabeth said suddenly.

She opened one eye. "Know?"

Elizabeth was smirking. "About you and Earl Hargreaves."

"Sorry?" Dylan simply looked confused.

"Your affair?" she wheedled, "you think just because you keep your distance you can't tell… but I can."

"Elizabeth… I honestly have-"

"Just because you can wrap any person around your little finger doesn't mean it'll work on me."

Dylan raised her eye brows. She knew all too well Elizabeth was simply clutching at the straws of heresy to make Dylan say something she would regret. Having become used to such treatment, it simply bounced off her.

She shook her head and stood. "You don't know what your talking about. Cain and I-"

"Oh Cain is it?"

"Yes, Elizabeth, Cain. He and I are friends. Haven't been for very long, but that is the only relationship we share and will share."

Elizabeth scowled. "You can't blind me, _Dylan_, I'm not as easily fooled-"

"Only by your own ignorance," interrupted Dylan firmly.

"I _know _you and the earl are having an affair. And it would break Jean's heart to find out that the girl he's obviously pledged his heart to couldn't care less about him."

"You really are a naïve little girl," sighed Dylan shaking her head moving away from the tree, "you need to grow up, you cannot get away with trying to antagonise people for the rest of your life."

"How dare you!" snapped Elizabeth, shaking with anger, "you are far younger than I and not a true noble!"

Dylan paused and began laughing as she turned back to face the other girl. "You know… I can really only take those as compliments," she said happily.

"How dare you," Elizabeth repeated, snarling. She raised her hand to Dylan.

"You don't want to do that," Dylan stated.

Almost startled, Elizabeth brought her hand down striking Dylan across her face. It had taken all of Dylan's self control not to stop the slap and teach the girl a lesson, but she accept the slap in good grace.

"I said you don't want to do that," Dylan repeated calmly, her eyes were a deep, fathom less blue, a signature for anger.

But having actually slapped the girl Elizabeth found somewhat daunting gave her a boost in confidence. She smirked. "Why not? You can't do anything. You're just a weak little fake lady. You have no place to be here. Besides, you could do nothing to harm me."

"You really believe you're untouchable don't you," retorted Dylan, her hands on her hips.

"Oh I know I'm untouchable." She reached out and pushed Dylan's shoulder a little. Though she was surprised the girl did not move a muscle, her triumphant face still there. "Go on… hit me… let's see if you-"

"Dylan," said a new voice, "I want to see the elephants, come with me!"

The two older girls glanced down at Mary, who had taken Dylan's hand and was looking up at her with wide innocent eyes.

"Run along and play, little girl," Elizabeth smiled poisonously, "this is big girl's bus-"

"Of coarse I will," said Dylan, wrapped her long fingers around Mary's hand in return, "I didn't realise they had elephants here." Both Dylan and Mary walked away from Elizabeth calmly.

"Hey!" called Elizabeth, "don't you dare turn your back on me!" But neither one took any notice of her. This was something she was not used to. "Come back and fini-"

"I wouldn't," came a second unexpected voice.

Startled, Elizabeth turned to see Cain leaning against the tree, his hat tilted so that the shadow covered his face. Using the top of his cane he pushed the rim away from his face so his face was more easily seen.

"You wouldn't what, my lord?" she asked politely.

His comment from the night before of the fact that he thought her boring echoed in her mind. Another she was displeased with. The she realised her position. Earl Hargreaves was a powerful man, and she could be in danger… depending on how much had he heard. The question was how offended was he?

"How long have you been there?"

"Since you arrived to speak with miss Dylan," he admitted, he smirked walking towards her, "you have an interesting opinions, lady Elizabeth," he told her softly, "and an interesting way of displaying such opinions."

Elizabeth hesitated, then her stubborn streak took the head seat, she crossed her arms and looked away from him. "I was only saying what I have heard, and from many reliable and good sources. Which was why I was so confident in my words."

Cain hooked his finger under her chin and made her look at him. His face was but inches away from hers. Elizabeth found her heart pounding hard, her face flushing red and her breath increasing. Had Cain such an effect on all women? She was suddenly unsurprised that Dylan had an affair with the man, if those rumours were true… he was truly intoxicating.

"Tell me… Elizabeth," the use of her plain first name made her gasp a little, yet she did not want him to let go, she wanted him to hold her closer. And still the only point of contact was of that of his finger and her chin, "do you still believe the rumours?"

"I… I… I don't know," she whispered.

Cain chuckled softly, "you don't know… and yet you were so sure a moment ago," his eyes seemed to travel to her lips then back to her eyes again.

Elizabeth gasped, that was the most obvious sign of a man being interested! Involuntarily, she leaned foreword, her lips slightly parted, her eyes closed gently.

Again the earl chuckled, he dropped his hand away from the little pointed chin and turned his back on her, walking towards the tree.

"You are a strange creature, Lady Elizabeth. First you insult me and my friend, then you wish to kiss me?"

Elizabeth flushed deep crimson turning away from the figure leaning lazily against the tree.

"I hope you realise you should be glad that Dylan walked away," he called after her.

She stopped and looked back towards him.

"Sorry?"

"Dylan Sedgewell… you should be very glad she walked away…" he absently rubbed his chin, almost in memory of something, "she's not everything she seems to be."

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth demanded, as he walked towards her.

"Dylan is more than you give her credit for, lady Elizabeth," Cain said softly as he passed her, hand still to his chin, "I would not be so ignorant as to underestimate her if I were you, you could have just made a great enemy."

He walked away from her, back towards the main event, leaving Elizabeth feeling utterly ridiculous. But at the same time… she was curious. What did he mean? Did he know her that well? Underestimate the girl? Nothing was adding up…

Shaking her head, Elizabeth followed in Cain's footsteps and returned to the festivities.


	16. Plots, Secrets and Disappearances

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

A/N: thank u Lady of the Storm XD this chapters 4 u

15. Plots, Secrets and Disappearances

That evening, just after the guests had finished their second dinner at the Malfoy estates, Pierre Malfoy found Crehador and Oscar playing cards in the main living room, Dylan (still dressed in her same green dress, she seemed unbothered by the fact that all the other ladies had changed from their day wear) leaning over the back of Crehador's chair watching the game with interest.

"My lord Crehador," Pierre began, looking somewhat embarrassed, "might I interrupt your game?"

"Of coarse, my lord," he said pleasantly, placing his cards on the table, only to have Dylan pick them up instead.

"You go and talk," she beamed, "I'll win this game."

"No chance," crowed Oscar, "I got him!"

"We'll see," Dylan's eyes glittered almost dangerously.

Walking away from the two as the game restarted Crehador shook his head.

"Are you quite all right?" asked Pierre, now speaking in french, both men's native tongue, rather befitting.

"I'm fine," nodded Crehador, "I just worry for my little friend."

"Miss Dylan? I am sure a little healthy…" Pierre trailed off, "it is not Dylan you worry for."

Crehador chuckled. "Hardly… though I do not think flaunting her talent at cards is a very good idea… especially in respectable company. No I worry for Oscar, his ego takes too much of a bashing from miss Mary, earl Cain's sister."

"Ah I have see the two young women together," smiled Pierre, "they make a formidable pair. Besides… I find miss Dylan refreshing. It is nice to have a young woman unafraid of her own abilities and talents."

Crehador tried to keep his smile steady, though the statement made him uneasy. Just how much did Pierre know…

"You wished to talk to me," Crehador said suddenly.

"Oh do forgive me," Pierre shook his head, "I become side-tracked all too easily. I was simply wandering, and I have spoken to a few others, if it would be possible to hold off the séance until tomorrow? It would be a most interesting note to finish this party on, and… between you and me," he grinned, "many of us old folk are rather tired after the day's fun."

Crehador chuckled. "That would not be a problem, in fact I almost think it to be a better idea myself. I must admit, after today I feel a rather tired as well. Having the medium of the proceedings of a séance would be unwise I believe."

"Too true, my good sir, too true," nodded Pierre quite happily, "now, do not let me keep you from your game, unless miss Dylan has already finished the game for you."

"Shall we go back and see?" smiled Crehador, again trying to keep his face friendly, but it was a hard task.

Together they re-entered the room to see Oscar with his head on the table and Dylan with her arms crossed looking very triumphant. Something told Crehador that she had just stated the most awful words to a person in Oscar's situation: I told you so.

"I guess that answers that," chuckled Pierre, "she most certainly is everything I have heard of her."

This sparked Crehador's curiosity. "Might I ask… what have you heard of her? Most rumours of women are far more to do with scandal and relationship issues. Unless I am mistaken… there is talk of a union between herself and master Jean."

"No you are not mistaken, but I have been friends with the Sedgewell family for many a good long year now," Pierre said calmly, "though this year was the first time meeting miss Dylan and the rest of Alfie's children, Dylan was definitely the one that stood out the most."

"I did not realise he would speak of his illegitimate daughter so much."

Some how this flustered Pierre a little, his face tinged a little with pink. "No no, he did not speak her a very much, it was what he said. Her out spoken nature and unusual ways excetera."

Crehador nodded thoughtfully. "I do not believe such descriptions suit my friend very well," he said calmly, "good evening my lord." He left the lord alone with his thoughts, he himself wandering if he had perhaps pushed the limit a little too far. It could get him into trouble if he wasn't careful.

"How badly did she beat you?" asked Crehador, shooing Dylan from his seat.

"I don't wanna talk about it," came Oscar's muffled voice.

"C'maaan," grinned Dylan taking hold of Oscar's arm, "cheer up, most people loose to me."

"You're not making me feel any better," he grumbled, sitting up.

"Lets go into the garden," Dylan said, still tugging of Oscar's arm, "it'll be nice out n- out there now."

Grumbled, Oscar stood and followed Dylan out as Crehador walked by her side.

Outside most of the younger nobles were relaxing on the lawn just outside the house.

While Oscar wandered off looking somewhat dejected as Dylan and Crehador made straight for a group of people who they recognised.

The group consisted of three other men, Cain, Jean and Albert and two other girls, Lisa and, strangely, Elizabeth. The two were greeted warmly by all but Elizabeth and Bert still seemed to hold Crehador at arms length.

The group either sat on the grass as they spoke, all entirely relaxed and calmed since the day's events. Dylan made herself quite comfortable between Lisa and Jean, leaning towards the french man casually. Yet she would repeatedly catch the eye of the young earl sitting opposite to her and smile without quite meaning to. No one appeared to notice.

But that was until Dylan saw Elizabeth watching her with scrutiny, and Bert looking a little worried. She tried to make it a point not to skim her eyes over the slight man before her, but it was hard to do when he was making faces at her when no one was paying attention.

After hearing about Oscar's abysmal defeat at cards, Lisa begged Dylan to teach her a few tricks. To which Dylan simply smile and said that she was just lucky, then winked.

"I wander miss Dylan," Elizabeth began loudly.

Dylan stiffened a little, but tried not to let it show.

"How is it that you became such a good hand at cards."

"Oh that's easy," she grinned, "first of all, Bert and Sebastian taught me more or less all the card games in existence from when we were little. Then I made friends with that fiend," she pointed Crehador, "who's as crooked as a thief. And I talk to my servants," she smiled blandly, "they actually taught me a lot. I asked the stable master to teach me how to win poker when I lost a bet to some con man." She chuckled to herself. "When I challenged him again… well he was in for a surprise."

Cain had no doubts that the con man there after was a loyal follower of the little queen.

"You do have an interesting life," sighed Lisa, "if I spoke a word to a servant that wasn't a command my mother would have my head! She says we're of a higher class for a reason." The little blonde girl's face looked forlorn.

"Don't worry," Crehador said kindly, "Dylan's just strange. She would rather go to a market place for the common folk that a dinner party with the queen for example."

Lisa giggled as Albert and Jean seemed to exchange knowing glances and Cain simply smirked. Only Elizabeth looked disheartened.

She had hoped such a comment would have made Dylan seem like less of a lady and therefor less desirable, especially to Jean. But that did not seem to be working.

"You know, sometimes I'm jealous of the common folk," Lisa said suddenly, "they don't have so many rules and regulations and rumours and stuff like that. They're free!"

"Poor poor Lisa," sighed Elizabeth, deciding she had found another opening, "don't you realise how bad life in the slums are?"

"Do you?" asked Jean, sceptically.

"Oh yes, I have visited such places. It's horrible, their lives are all cramped, they have to have many families to one room and it stinks! I feel so sorry for them, and somehow I know there's nothing I can do to help! Though I would love to."

Dylan said nothing, just seemed to get distracted by the stars above them. She looked a little knowing, but it was a hard expression upon her face to read.

"You grew up in the slums didn't you, Dylan," said Cain suddenly, breaking her out of her revere.

"What?" Elizabeth sounded startled.

"Yes…" nodded Dylan slowly, coming back to the rest of the world, as Lisa looked horrified and enchanted, "but only until I was about three."

There was a look of relief on Elizabeth's features. Until Dylan spoke again.

"Though I often went back to at least visit my grandmother," she amended, "which is when I made a few friends down there." She smiled to herself. "I agree with Lisa, I'm jealous of them… they don't have people peering over their shoulders to make sure they're eating enough or talking to the right people. I almost wish I had that freedom back."

Elizabeth was bristling. Again she had tried to show Dylan up or at least show herself in a better light. Again she had been torn down by a comment or two of the other girl's. This was getting ridiculous. It was not fair! How could she be the more interesting one… the one the one that everyone paid attention to. What was so great about her?!

She got up suddenly, her jealousy far too over whelming even for her. Without a word she walked away into the darkness leaving everyone stunned.

Dylan sighed and got to her feet. "I have a bad feeling I did that, I'll go after her."

"No no," Bert said standing up, "I don't want another fight between the two of you. It could end badly. I'll go."

"But-"

"No," he told her firmly, he came round and kissed her forehead, "I'll just make sure she's all right, I'll be back in a moment."

Dylan nodded and seated herself as he followed the beautiful lady into the night.

"So anyway," began Lisa excitedly, breaking the slightly awkward silence, "Jean you have to tell us about tomorrow! I do hope it won't be as exciting as today, I don't think I could cope with so much going on! I'd faint!"

Later that night, Dylan lay in her bed starring straight up at the canopy over her. Mary and Charmaine were both dead asleep in their respective beds having being so excitable about the carnival.

She was still worried… she did not even have a reason to be.

"They're still not back yet," she had said to Cain earlier that evening, just before they separated to go to bed, again the two left a little earlier than the others, though no one seemed to notice.

"Who?" he asked, yawning.

"Bert and Elizabeth… come to think of it… no one has seen them since!"

Cain smirked as they came to her door, "they're probably doing something far more interesting than sleep," he winked, as Dylan leaned against her door, "like what we could-"

"He's not that sort of boy," Dylan had insisted quietly, he's too innocent."

"That's what people might think of you, lady Dylan," he teased, putting a hand over her head, the other arm wrapping around her waist pulling her close to his body, "how wrong they are…" he bent to kiss her neck.

She laughed and pushed him off. "Get outta here, wolfie," she grinned, "no one thinks I'm innocent. Black sheep habit." Her grin faded again as she remembered her brother, and worry set back in.

Cain caught this and sighed. He touched her cheek gently. "Look, he's a big boy now, I'm sure he can take care of himself." His smirk was back. "Besides, if those two weren't up to something of the sort, I'd begin to worry there was something wrong with your brother."

"Leave now!" she had announced, pointing away from her, "go!"

"I'm going I'm going," he left with only a smirk and a wave good-bye as Dylan had let herself into the room.

Lying on her back, trying to find a way to sleep, Dylan still felt uneasy about the fact that she still didn't know what had happened to them.

Worse still, she had yet to hear back from the blue tit she had put on patrol. Strangely enough blue tit's, for all their cockiness, were the most reliable spies especially when it came to reporting back. Perhaps he had decided to get the full story… Dylan wasn't so sure.

Scowling she pushed the covers away from her and got out of bed. Pulling on her dressing down over her pyjamas, she left the room as quietly as she could.

The halls were dark, but her eyes were as sharp as ever. Remembering the way, she found herself outside her brother's room. Taking a breath she rapped on the door. Softly at first. Then louder.

No answer.

Confused, she tried the door handle.

It swung open.

Now almost scared she stepped into the dark room and switched on a gas lamp.

The room was empty, the beds untouched. It was as though the boys had ot returned here since they had woken in the morning.

It wasn't right… at least Sebastian had to be back.

Come to think of it… Dylan realised she had not seen Sebastian all evening, not since the lunch time surge towards the food tent of the carnival.

Things were starting to look bleak. Turning the lamps down, she left the room and found her way to her friends' room. She did not feel safe for some reason and she needed someone help.

She knocked on the door hard, realising even her knocking had become a little panicked.

Cain answered the door, finishing an insult… or maybe it was a curse, could have been either.

"-your maggot sized brain will be eaten by, come in Dylan," he added, "by parasites and you won't even realise it until you are put into hospital for being to stupid… if you touch her."

"Oscar stop antagonising Cain," Dylan sighed heavily, closing the door behind her.

"It wasn't even about Mary this time!" protested Oscar, "I just said Lisa was pretty!"

"What? He's a predator," Cain snapped.

Rolling her eyes, Dylan sat herself down heavily on the nearest bed.

"Oh oh, I think we should leave," Dominic grinned at Oscar, "the two might need some alone-" he cut himself off. Dylan seemed to almost be crying. Forgetting that he was teasing her, he got off his own bed and came to sit beside her, "what happened?"

"Sebastian and Bert are not in their room," she said quietly, but loud enough for everyone to hear, "their room has not bee touched since the maids tided them this morning… you would have thought at least one of them had come back to at least pretend to be asleep. But… it's spotless!"

Cain sighed. "I told you, Dyl, Bert's a big boy, he can handle himself. He's your older brother, he should be looking after you… not the other way aro-"

"Two of my family are Delilah members," she blurted out.

That stunned them.

"Yeah… that's why I didn't want Cain snooping around. I wanted to sort them out myself… make them see sense. And it's why Margaret and I kept up the charade of her hating me… just in case. It was easier to get more information that way."

"Who?" asked Oscar, he was serious, a side rarely seen by anyone.

"I don't know," she admitted, "but I know at least two are Delilah members. What's worse is I also know it can only be out of my parents and my brothers. My sisters are too young… and too ditzy and my little brothers… well… you've seen them!"

No one knew what to say. It was bad enough knowing that the organisation that you hate wants to hire you just because of your contacts, as well as the head of that organisation is the father of a dear friend. It was only worse two know part of your family was one of them.

"So… you think… Sebastian and Alber-" started Cain.

Dylan shook her head. "I don't know!" she complained, "it can't be Bertie… that just doesn't make sense. He's too sick, he can barely leave the house for fear of contracting something. I am sure it's Sebastian… it makes sense… he's always been distant with me, I thought it was because of what I was. But if it's because I keep refusing Alexis… that would make sense two. I'm a failure twice in his eyes then.

"Other than him…" she moaned, "I don't know! I hoped this weekend would help me out… and now this?!"

She gasped, her eyes wide. "What if Bert and Elizabeth found something they shouldn't have?"

"What?" Cain's voice was flat.

"Something on the grounds that they shouldn't have and Sebastian found them! I know Seb would never hard his own twin but… Elizabeth…"

She trailed off, the jumped to her feet. "We have to do something!" she insisted.

Cain took her hands quickly, before she did something. "All right… Dylan? I want you to take a few deep breaths and calm down."

"I ca-"

"I said, calm down," he repeated.

Scowling, Dylan knew he was right. Even if she was going to do something, it would not be helpful if she was too pumped.

"Now… I say that you're letting your imagination get the better of you at the moment. Right now, you need to calm down and think about this rationally. We will get to the bottom of it… but right now, we need to let this play out a bit. Then it can play to our advantage. Do you understand?"

Dylan scowled at him, she did not appreciate being talked to as a child, but she did not make it very obvious.

"Yes…" she said quietly. She looked at the other two who were looking surprised (although there was definitely more to Oscar's expression).

"Sorry to have jumped in on you like this… I needed help, and you're the ones I thought of."

"Of coarse we are," grinned Oscar, his complex expression having disappeared, "apart from Mary… we're the only one's you trust!"

"I am so fucked…" Dylan muttered, then yelped as she got a face full of a pillow.

Even as she laughed, worry still crept over her, and her grin disappeared. The men looked between each other, she was like them… unable to simply sit still and accept life as it came, she had to do something.

"You said you wanted to snoop around the house right?" said Crehador, calmly, "now would be a little too suspicious… we don't want to get caught. What we need are diversions…"

"Your séance tomorrow," said Cain, "everyone will be interested in it, even if they don't participate."

"But how will I get out of it?" Dylan demanded, "I'd be expected to join in."

"How about this," started Oscar.

"No!" they all stated in unison.

"But I haven't even said it yet," complained Oscar.

"We don't need to," Cain began, only to have a sharp slap on the upside of his head from Dylan.

"Go on," she said.

Their plans were studied late into the night, and while Dylan knew she would be tired in the morning, she also knew it would be worth it.


	17. Speaking With Spirits

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

A/N: sorry for taking so long :-( i've had a lil bit of writer's block. but i won't be able to post that much anyway at the moment. i'm in pakistan at the moment and it's hard to get internet access on my own laptop. but i'll post it up as soon as i can i promise!! i am so sorry it's taken me so long, and this chapter is dedicated to all my readers i hope u enjoy it!!

16. Speaking With Spirits

The next day was far calmer. Though there were still entertainers for the children: acrobats, magicians, dancers and the like. For the adults too, however they took the form of live musicians on the lawn as they sat and spoke.

This had been lord Pierre's compromise with his son, the first day based around the needs of the younger nobles and the second around the needs of the adults. Which worked very well to their advantage, as the adults were tired after the previous day and welcomed the break, and the children still spoke about the fair and had the entertainers to keep them out of the adults hair.

The men of Dylan's generation, with the help of those a bit older, went to play a game of cricket. She was unsurprised to see that Cain was one of the only ones not participating in the activities.

She sat with Mary, Charmaine, Lisa and another girl (Amanda? So she thought anyway), talking lazily about anything not serious. As she looked around she was glad to see that the other girls had chosen to wear far more casual dresses than they had done previously. All were of cotton and silk, and plain straight down without too many frills or puffs.

Mary was in a plain yellow and orange, while Charmaine in a pastel floral pattern. Dylan herself had chosen a pale yellow and white, what only served to accentuate her hair and eyes, which would have not made things any between herself and Elizabeth. Whom she had yet to see that day.

She heard foot steps on grass coming towards them which stopped beside her and the person sat down. She looked at him, and was surprised to see that Jean was sitting beside her.

"Won't you play?" she asked demurely, turning her attention back to the game, Oscar had bowled a pretty good ball (much her surprise).

"No," he shook his head, "I was never any good at it. My class mates used to say it was because a frog's limbs were unstable on dry land."

Dylan snorted. "I would hardly call England dry land."

Jean simply chuckled, "I never really did understand the rules anyway."

"I do," she sighed sadly, "simply because I have two older brothers. Cricket really was their game."

"Didn't you play with them?"

Dylan laughed out loud. "Of coarse not! Why would two strapping young lads allow a girl into their game? No, I was looking after little siblings and making sure arguments did not blow up."

This was not entirely the truth. While that was what she had done most of the time anyway, she often played with Sebastian and Albert, becoming almost as good as them. Though she never really did get a strong grip on batting.

As the young man James, one who had sided with Dylan against Elizabeth, whacked a second ball out of the field almost, Dylan turned her attention to Jean again.

"Jean…" she said slowly.

"Yes?" he looked at her intently, as though all his attention was focused on her. Such intensity was hard to take, but she bared it. There really was something disconcerting of the way he looked at her, his fathom less eyes were unnaturally unblinking. How deep in Delilah was he?

Suppressing a shudder, rather easily, she continued, almost tentatively. "Have you seen Elizabeth today? Or Bertie? I haven't seen either of them since Elizabeth stalked off last night looking incredibly angry."

"Elizabeth and Bertie…" Jean trailed off as in in thought, "ah yes, I saw them earlier today. They seemed rather close actually," he smiled shyly, "I did want to go and speak to Bert, but he and Elizabeth… they seemed to be in the middle of something."

"Really…?" Dylan nodded, and looked back towards the game again.

Sebastian was holding the red, cork ball in his hands triumphantly as James walked off the pitch looking rather annoyed. Despite the spectacular hit, James had been caught out. The ball could have been going at a hundred miles an hour and Sebastian would have still caught it with ease, Dylan knew that better than almost anyone else.

As she watched her brother throw the ball back to Oscar, their eyes met, both just then had almost the exact same shade of blue, and both were looking suspicious. Though of what, Dylan could not rightly say.

She looked away from him, and concentrated on Oscar instead. Not yet… she could not deal with her brother yet… she had to confirm what was going on first…

From the edge of the audience, Cain stood, watching the events unfolding. He saw Dylan speaking with the girls, quite relaxed, then become tense as she spoke to her supposed fiancé. He saw her catch the master's lie and became uncomfortable with his stare.

He saw on the pitch, Crehador watching Sebastian with mistrust and dislike. He saw Oscar and Sebastain exchange nods of understanding. He saw Dylan and Sebastian's eyes meet and the contact break.

There was a lot more going on at this cricket match than met the eye.

The day past at a slow leisurely pace. The adults were grateful for the break and the chance to have decent conversations, while the children were entertained by others. The younger generation played, flirted and conversed. It was all very civilised and tame, something they all knew, understood and appreciate.

All that is, but a certain group of friends.

Having had her worry hitched up by several notches, Dylan was unable to stop moving, she could no longer find that blue tit spy, all she knew was that he was still alive. Jean seemed to be tailing her where ever she went, which meant she did not have the slightest chance to speak with the others, or have a proper conversation with any of the girls.

Though Lisa thought it was sweet that he was becoming so attached, Dylan was by now certain he had caught on, which meant that night's excursions would be all the more dangerous.

They were prepared for that.

At the séance, all the under sixteens were put in another room, again with more entertainers and the like, and told to go to bed as soon as possible. Most of the old children wanted to stay, have the terrible outcomes that could happened played on the worried parents' minds.

The much older nobles, refused to take part, some for fear of their own spirits being taken, some for saying they did not believe in such nonsense, other (like Margaret) said it was far too much effort. Yet for some reason, they all stayed to witness the event.

Crehador was done up with his cape and dark clothes. He had all his props and things set up along with him. Dylan was fully aware that all the skulls and crystal balls and things were simply for show, but without such things, it was harder for an audience to believe anything was happening.

"Hold hands," he order around the table, taking hold of Dylan's on his right and Melody's on his left, "and do not let go. If you let go, the spirit can break free. A spirit broken away from the spirit world is an angry one and therefore dangerous."

Murmurs of fear rumbled around the table, but no one left, instead they too each other's hands, and held on tightly.

He was in his element, here Dominic Crehador was in charge and no one had the guts to defy him. All in the fear of spirits and the unknown.

Eerily, as Crehador murmured something under his breath, a storm gathered outside. The rumbles of thunder and lighting could be heard and the pattering of rain began to build up and up. This was pure coincidence, Dylan had seen Crehador work without such weather playing havoc in the background. Though she had to admit… it did help.

Even Cain was impressed. The skull in the middle of the table, surrounded by roses was a stroke of genius. Nothing spooked a group of nobles like a reminder of death. The crystal ball before Crehador glowed eerily in the darkness, though Cain knew all too well the 'crystal ball' as a hollow glass that could be opened at the bottom and it was filled with fireflies. To the nobles they appeared to be invisible magic lights appearing and flashing, coensiding with spirits.

Crehador knew exactly what he was doing.

He threw he head back, his eyes flashing open, filled with a wild sort of rage as he yelled, "come spirits! Tell us what you have to say!"

Again apart of the story, he had already communed with the spirits, though he did not know who it was, it was harder with so many people in the room not joining in.

Lightening flashed outside the window, someone screamed and Dylan slumped to the floor.

"Do not let go!" ordered Crehador, as Melody almost released his fingers, "if you do, her life is in danger."

This was no lie.

Being possessed by spirits in general was a dangerous position to be in. But if one was surrounded by people, especially people connected at least by touch, then there was far less danger. The touch seemed to keep the live person anchored to the real world.

"Spirit who are you?" Crehador demanded, as Dylan's puppeteer body pushed itself up into a sitting position.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, "I'm so so sorry…"

"Who are you?" he demanded.

Neither Dylan nor the spirit seemed to be answered.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, louder now, "I'm so so sorry."

For some reason, some how, Dylan's voice had changed. Not much, but a little. It was deeper somehow, far more masculine and not with the same gust of life Dylan had, far more lost and alone.

"I didn' mean ter," her eyes flashed open, but they were unseeing, unfocus, "I didn' wan' ter betray anyone! I love 'er… I really love 'er… my friend… my bes' friend… my little queen… I made her tha'! Tha' were me! Then… I was stoopid… I made a mistake… and I paid fer i'. Qui'e righ' too. Always ho' headed my li'l queen is… bu' she were righ' ter do i'. She did i' fas' too… be'ween the eyes." A smile, nothing like Dylan's own smile, fluttered across her face.

Cain's blood ran cold. This wasn't… could it be…? No… not… no…

"Trai'ers should all be killed!" she was speaking fast now, faster and faster, more and more frantic, as though it was imperative that people knew what she was saying. "Lark me. No mercy, no nuffin. We ge' wha' we deserve. Yer make a promise and yer keep it. Yer don't betray tha people yer say yer love jus' coz i's good fer yer!"

She suddenly calmed down.

"She's all righ' though… she's safe…" her eyes narrowed, though still unfocused on the people around, "there's a trai'er 'ere… I c'n smell i'… a trai'er in this room… yer be'er change yer ways, trai'er… or yer'll 'ave my li'l queen to deal with," she laughed coldly, she sounded very masculine as she laughed, "and then yer'll 'ave me!"

"Spirit!" yelled Crehador, Dylan's attention snapped towards him, though there was still no real focus in her expression, "who are you? What was your name?"

"My name? My name. My name is… my name was Lucus Roberts… ex-child of the state, con man, pick pocket, theif, lover and friend to the Begger Queen… trai'er… 'E'LL NEVER GE' 'ER!" she suddenly seemed to loose control, her body was shaking violently.

"Crehador," snapped Cain, "do something."

"I can't," he retorted, "not yet!"

"I MIGH' BE DEAD, BU' I'M NO' USELESS!"

"Crehador!" shouted Oscar, "she's getting worse."

"I know," he snapped through gritted teeth, "I'm trying!"

By now the rain had started pelting against the window panes like hail stones, the thunder and lighting was more and more frequent. The people around the circle stared on in a mixture between horror and amazement.

"ALEXIS YER NEVER GONNA GE' 'ER!"

"SPIRIT, LEAVE!" Crehador finally commanded.

Dylan's body stopped shaking, and relaxed a little. "I'm leaving… but don't think I don't recognise yer, Crehador," she said softly. Her body gave a little sigh, her eyes flashed open once again, this time focused and she collapsed to the floor.

"You can break the circle," Crehador said softly.

As the circle broke, everyone came rushing down to her side, calling for water and smelling salts. But not a moment later, Dylan was awake again.

She looked around in surprise.

"Did I miss something? I just dozed off for a minute," she said, her tone lost and confused, but entirely unhurt.

Cain and Jean her were on either side laughed. It seemed just like her to think so little of what she went through.

"You don't remember?!" asked Meldoy, who still looked white as a sheet.

Dylan shook her head, as though trying to shake cobwebs from her hair, her dainty little hand went to her forehead. "No… nothing…" she sounded so confused, then glanced up Meldoy and smile gently, "but that's not surprising. You hardly ever remember if you get possessed by a ghost."

She glanced round, all their faces were white and worried.

"I'm fine!" she insisted, almost laughing, "someone was probably going to channel the ghosty, and I'm pretty glad it was me not little miss Melody here." She scowled for a moment. "Dominic would have some answering to do!"

"I do not control where the spirits go," he stated, his voice detached, "I just communicate with them."

"Humph!" Dylan crossed her arms, almost childishly, the action caused many of the other participants to calm down, "I think you could if you tried."

"Oh she's awake? Thank God," came a voice, they looked up to see Sebastian having returned, a glass in hand. He handed it to her. "Drink this, it'll help with the dizziness."

"What is it with water?" Dylan murmured, accepting the glass and drinking from it gratefully, "everyone seems to think it'll cure everything!"

Sebastian turned away to take his place once again, his grin hidden away from all.

Jean and Oscar helped Dylan to her feet slowly. As she stood on her two feet, she wobbled for a moment, then lost all balance and fell on Jean, grabbing hold of his blazer tightly, her face appearing to be a little green.

"I uh…" she blushed and released him, only to have Oscar catch her arm gently, "I think I'll retire to bed… I'm so sorry Dominic… but I think the possession took it out of me."

Crehador raised his eyebrows. "Well I'm glad you said it and not me, you would never have listened to me of I told you to."

Her brow creased into a scowl, but she ignored the comment. Cain's knowing looking irritated her more anyway. "I'm going to bed, if anything interesting happens, I want to know about it."

"I'll take you," offered Oscar, smiling at her, "I don't like the sound of you walking up those stairs on your own… you'll probably fall all the way back down again and someone will have to _carry _you up."

"Oh I pity the person who has to do that," murmured Crehador to know one in particular, though the people around him heard him clear as day.

"Again, ignoring the rude comments from my friend over there," Dylan said tiredly, "I'm going to bed."

As Oscar helped Dylan out of the room, the muttering quietened down somewhat. Now that Dylan was clearly all right, they did not believe they had anything more to worry about.

As they reached the stairs, Dylan and Oscar glanced at each other grinning.

"I can't believe you pulled that off!" beamed Oscar, as Dylan leaned on the banister to walk up the stairs, "you're acting was fantastic!"

"Uh… Oscar?" she started, "that wasn't acting… that was real."

Oscar stopped, and grabbed her arm again. "What?!"

She looked at him, she was still smiling. "It wasn't acting."

"But we agreed…" started Oscar looking surprised.

"C'mon, we'll walk and talk," she said, getting a little edgy, glancing towards the door. Oscar nodded, but refused to let go of her arm, for fear of her toppling over. "I was going to just act it, but coz of my… ability, ghosts seem to like to possess me. So I let him."

"So do you really not know what happened?"

"I know exactly what happened. I knew exactly who it was and what he said. I was just powerless over my own body. Lucus was always a strong boy."

"So you knew him?"

"I killed him," she said quietly, gazing at the floor, "because I had to. He betrayed me to Delilah, and to save my people and my friends, he had to go." She looked up to Oscar. "Do you think I'm a monster?"

Oscar shook his head. "No. Never. You did what you thought was right, and I agree. It was too dangerous." His expression became worried. But I'm worried about you…"

"I'm fine. I've killed before. By accident admittedly. But yes… I have." A smile appeared on her face. "I'm glad Lucus possessed me. I know he doesn't resent me for ending his life, and he's cheering us on. I could feel it."

They had reached the top of the flight of stairs, and turned right towards the study.

"Were you in love with him?" Oscar asked, gently, catching the slight catch in her voice.

"No. I loved him dearly. He was my best friend… he was my lover. I was never in love with him."

Oscar grinned. "Good, Cain can't get jealous then."

She stared up at him then smacked his arm. "Shuddup. Cain is not in love-"

"No lies now, your majesty, we both know he is."

"We're at the study," Dylan grumbled, avoiding the subject.

Instead of pursuing it, her friend just looked knowing and let her pick the lock.

A moment later the two pushed the door open, let themselves inside and shut the door behind them with a soft, heavy thud.


End file.
